Eleusinian Mysteries: The Return
by Svelte Rose
Summary: He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to have her. Mind. Body. Soul. She was his for the taking.
1. Chapter 1

**Gift For: **scifichick774**  
Title: **Eleusinian Mysteries (Return)**  
Author: **Svelte Rose**  
Summary: **He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to ensnare her mind, body, and soul. _She was his_ _for the taking_.**  
Pairing: **Rabastan Lestrange, Hermione Granger**  
Rating: **NC-17**  
Warnings: **Dubious consent, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, violence, and a possible cliff-hanger**  
Spoilers: **Basic HP stuff…**  
****Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: I don't think I followed the prompts very well _at all_, scifichick774, so I offer my deepest apologies. When the challenge first came to me, I thought I could do it especially since the plot bunny reared its cute, furry head so quick. But then it swerved to an off-road like a bad driver and [un]fortunately, this is the end result. With a dynamic such as Rabastan's and Hermione's, my muse was very stubborn on how she wanted to see this work out. Hope you enjoy!

**xxxxx**

"_But I'm not sure if it's even possible…" _

_A watery smile. "Please Miss Granger. You are the brightest witch of this generation. I've heard of your feats – miracles, even. I just want to hear his voice…I just want to speak with him one last time. I'll give you whatever you need! Name your price."_

_A panicked expression. "It's not an issue of money. I just truly don't believe it's possible."_

"_But could you at least try?" This time, the woman took the young witch's palm and sandwiched it between her own._

_Hesitation. "I can't promise you anything though."_

"_The attempt is enough." The older witch replied with tears now falling freely from her amber-colored eyes._

Another scream of agony ripped through the air of the ill-lit quarters. A gurgle sounded as the young witch coughed up mucus and blood, mixed in with pieces of her throat having been torn from the frequent harsh screams. The brown curls that had been secured in a knot at the top of her head fell haphazardly around her and the jeweled hair ornament lay several paces away, long forgotten. Her gown, once the color of champagne was stained rusty brown and scarlet red, having endured harsh treatment for the last hour.

Hermione breathed, the dust from the floor coating her nostrils, chin and lips. She couldn't even cry, the pain was so intense. Even a single breath shot rivulets of agony throughout her body, so that she was loathe to move nary an inch.

A sharp kick was dealt between her ribs and kidney, forcing her slender frame to flip over. All she could offer was a grunt and a gasp as the sharp end of Alecto Carrow's wand dug into her jugular.

"No?" A softly spoken question flitted out between two painted lips.

A mixture of blood and saliva splattered all over her face. Alecto wiped at her eye distastefully before lifting the wand and then flicking it daintily.

Another half sob half scream ripped through the air as the body on the floor wrenched and she dug her gloved hands into the stone floor.

A hard glint appeared in Alecto's inhumanely pale grey eyes. "Well, I suppose we'll have to negotiate some more won't we?"

Hermione clutched at her stomach as she fought for consciousness. She had barely heard the softly spoken threat but caught it nonetheless. The witch was clearly not quite right in her mind but then again, inbreeding did have more costs than benefits.

Alecto tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder, circling Hermione's prone body as though she were just some random spectator. Then, she paused right in front of the heavily wounded witch, tipping her head in an act of innocence.

While her body rejoiced at the small break it'd received from the Cruciatus curse, her mind was not fooled for a second. Brown eyes narrowed in the few moments of tense silence as she shifted onto her elbow.

Much like a conductor ready to give the first beat of the song, Alecto held up her wand in a dramatic fashion, the corners of her lips curving into an out of place smile. Hermione did not break her gaze with the witch _although her hands wished they had something to throw at the wench._

Her shrill laugh resounded in the dank room as she simultaneously dropped both hands.

The sound of gears grinding and latches unlocking themselves filled Hermione's ears but her eyes had a mind of their own. They immediately glanced upwards, just as Alecto's eyes had and watched in horror as several bodies dropped into view, bound, gagged, and some even unconscious. A rope held them suspended in mid-air, tied to their legs and the conscious ones started to attempt an escape when their eyes caught sight of her person.

_Oh god. Charlie. George. Fleur. Terry. Luna. Dean. Bill. Ginny. _

She gasped, at the last figure, the rounded belly giving away at once who the victim was. The two of them hadn't spoken for several years after a fall out several months after the war had ended but even then, she would've never wished this on Ginny, especially with the state she was in.

"You can't be serious," she gritted out between teeth.

A cold grin crossed Alecto's face as she bent down to face level with Hermione. "I think you and I both know the answer to that."

Charlie wriggled every which way, veins straining in his neck and face as he struggled to say something through the silencing spell that had been cast on him. Hermione's head shot up to face his and blue clashed with brown. Even if the syllables were unidentifiable, she knew the message he tried to convey.

_Don't do it. Whatever she says, don't do it._

"I don't think you can afford to be shy. I want _him_ back and I'll do whatever it takes to have him back! Unfortunately, your foul self is the only one that can do it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione denied, though only half the words had tumbled from her lips.

She had caught her meaning nonetheless and immediately, she stiffened in rage. In a single instant, she flicked her wand at the second eldest Weasley who jerked and strained against his bounds.

Hermione didn't even bother to wipe the spit from her face and in that moment, her own pain had been brushed aside as she watched in horrified silence while Charlie thrashed viciously against the Cruciatus curse.

"Not convincing enough?" A barely sane look entered her slate-grey eyes as she flicked her wand at the next victim.

The only remaining Weasley twin held still for the barest of moments, his screams unheard as the curse ravaged his lanky frame.

Her lips moved but no sounds came out. Blood dripped from her mouth and she weakly spat the metallic liquid away, wincing when her cut lip stung at the harsh treatment. _Stop._ She tried murmuring as she pushed herself up from the ground. Her gown felt like a hundred extra kilograms, hanging in rags around her battered body.

An uncontrollable laugh ripped from the deranged witch's mouth as she flicked her wand to the next victim, and then the next, then again…

_She couldn't do it. The repercussions. All they'd fought for only to result in nothing. Wasn't it about the greater good?_

A piercing scream rang in her ears as Alecto had lifted the silencing spell and then readied herself to place the very pregnant Ginny under the Cruciatus.

_Oh god. _She watched in torrid fascination as the red-haired strained much like the six previous ones had but this crime had been far more vicious. She knew without a doubt that the ex-Death Eater had focused her curse on Ginny's womb and Harry's unborn child. _The babe would die._

"Stop it!" Her quiet voice commanded as she staggered to stand on her own two feet.

Alecto ceased, turning to face the curly-haired witch and lifting her eyebrows innocently. "Yes?" She spoke as though she'd been disturbed from some mundane everyday activity and not torturing victims she'd kidnapped from the Ministry ball just hours ago.

Hermione sliced her palm with the sharp edge of her hairpin, the only cut on her body that hadn't been dealt and tainted by Dark Magic. She met Carrow's eyes and then promptly knelt down on the ground, dipping a finger in the cut, drawing crude symbols on the stone floor.

It was a morbid sight, seven sharply dressed individuals and a kneeling witch drawing strange characters on the floor with her own blood. Alecto smirked as she sauntered towards the silently shrieking Ginny, caressing her freckled cheek with a cool palm. "You've no idea what sort of gift your friend has traded for the life of your child."

The witch could not have heard her or did not care to for she didn't react in the slightest as tears poured from her anguished eyes.

She passed cold, grey eyes over all the strung up witches and wizards, pausing briefly upon the pale-haired witch who, instead of fighting against her binding, was all too focused on the curly-haired witch.

"I'll need something of his."

"What?" Alecto all but hissed, not having quite understood the statement.

Void, brown eyes locked gazes with her as a hand waved flippantly, "Something personal of his. A piece of jewelry, wand, lock of hair…anything to do with his essence."

She glared and then easily pulled off a signet ring that didn't quite fit her boney fingers. Tossing the object at Hermione, she watched as the witch carefully surveyed the handsome ring with a shrewd, sort of care.

"What are you waiting for, you stupid mudblood!" She screeched, her patience having reached its limit. Even the prospect of killing seven easy victims didn't appeal as much as accomplishing her goal.

_Almost there, dearest._

Hermione rubbed her finger over the large emerald, offset by a pair of onyx gems and diamonds. _R.L. Beta Draconis._ She slipped it on, much to the outrage of the deranged witch currently holding them hostage before the words of a long-forgotten language flowed from her mouth.

_She just had to buy time. _

"You filthy, stinking mudblood!" Alecto screeched as she shot forward only to be blocked off by a magical shield. "How dare you sully his ring with your dirty hands! Take it off! Take it off right now!" A blue light shot from her wand only to bounce off the shield and go zinging across the room.

Hermione ignored her screams as the rush of magic contained within the circle draw in her blood crackled around her. Sweat trickled down her neck as the temperature rose in the snug atmosphere.

She trudged on, pulling from a memory she was too ready to forget as the temperature bloomed, her finger burning where the ring hung much like it had on Alecto's finger.

_It wasn't at all like the Unforgivables. It was strictly Forbidden and against all rules of life and death. A concoction of her own with only the slightest help, she wasn't even sure the spell would work. _

_Even that was a lie. It would work. _

Hermione gulped down a deep breath as she halted, the virulent magic swirling around her persons waiting for its direction.

_She knew it would work and that was the most fatal part about it all._

"Finish the spell you disgusting bitch," came the nasty snarl. Hermione turned her head only to see that witch held a wand painfully pointed at Luna's temple.

Her decision was made. She'd deal with the consequences. _Where there's a beginning, there is an end._

"_Sig peio thau chromphi eta._"

_Return._


	2. Chapter 2

**Gift For: **scifichick774**  
Title: **Eleusinian Mysteries (Return)**  
Author: **Svelte Rose**  
Summary: **He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to ensnare her mind, body, and soul. _She was his_ _for the taking_.**  
Pairing: **Rabastan Lestrange, Hermione Granger**  
Rating: **NC-17**  
Warnings: **Dubious consent, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, violence, and a possible cliff-hanger**  
Spoilers: **Basic HP stuff…**  
****Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: I don't think I followed the prompts very well _at all_, scifichick774, so I offer my deepest apologies. When the challenge first came to me, I thought I could do it especially since the plot bunny reared its cute, furry head so quick. But then it swerved to an off-road like a bad driver and [un]fortunately, this is the end result. With a dynamic such as Rabastan's and Hermione's, my muse was very stubborn on how she wanted to see this work out. Hope you enjoy!

**xxxxx**

He lifted his head, black hair that had been once lustrous, now hung in disgusting bloody clumps around his face, to stare at the bright light that flashed from where the hook pierced his chest.

_This was something different._

All around him, the condemned souls screamed as it quickly engulfed his naked, tortured body.

_He was escaping. _

He caught a brief waft of something floral and citric, reminding him of a pool of molasses and a tangle of the most luxurious brown curls that so often occupied his life before this drudgery.

The tug was quick.

**Xxxxx**

She screamed in surprise, covering her face with her arms as the magic burst from the circle. Turning her head back, she was angered to find the witch in a crumpled heap with nothing but dangerous, raw magic to show for it.

Boiling, she stomped towards the prone figure only to halt two steps in when the magic began to convolute around the crudely drawn circle.

It started to form the fuzzy outlines of a human body, a powerful male physique so familiar to her that tears of joy began to pool in her eyes.

_Fucking bitch had done it. Fucking bitch and her dirty blood. _Her feet picked up of their own volition as she slowly walked across the room, heart lifting when she caught sight of the olive skin, still as perfect as she'd remembered.

"Rabastan," she whispered, reaching out with one arm while the magic dissipated, bringing to view a sculpted, muscled back so unlike the cold, blue body she'd held in her arms.

He turned around, lifting an imperious eyebrow as her arm grasped at his bicep.

Alecto stepped close, breathing in the earthy scent that was _everything him _and placed a palm on his chest, feeling for the pulse that _had to be there_.

_His heartbeat. She could feel his heartbeat._

"Impossible," she whispered, pressing a lip to his chest.

"It would seem so," his cultured voice rumbled.

_She smelled musky. Like those heavy, rich perfumes he disliked._

"That can't be…?" His midnight blue gaze flickered to the prone body.

Alecto snarled, glaring at the unconscious witch before pointing her wand at her.

She knew of his obsession before and _like before_, she be damned if she let it get in the way of _their_ desires.

"Just garbage," she simply said before she summoned the words for the death curse.

So focused on her deed, she hadn't seen the dangerous glint that had flashed in his eyes.

Luna's eyes widened and she would bet the others watching had too, as the Death Eater-come-back-to-life moved with inhumane speed and twisted his ex-lover's pointed arm, the wand clattering to the ground before he tossed her unceremoniously aside. His naked state forgotten, he strode across the room and picked up the stick before turning on the witch, a bemused smile playing across his face.

Alecto cowered on the floor, her face the picture of confusion, hurt, and betrayal as the man she'd risked everything for, pointed the wand – _her own bloody wand _– at her without the faintest bit of regret.

"I can't let you do that," he spoke, his soft voice haunting to her ears.

She blinked widely before narrowing her eyes at him, "No, you can't still –," she couldn't even bring herself to say the words but it was there, in his possessive stance as he stood guarding the _bitch's_ tortured body. "She's a fucking mudblood, she doesn't _deserve_ you! She deserves to die!"

The corner of his lip twitched as he lifted the wand, "Stupefy."

Her figure slumped just as the doors burst open, Ministry officials flooding into the dank room, a red-haired man and a raven-haired man adorned in Auror robes at the helm.

A cynical smile crossed his face as the wand dropped forgotten to the floor. The various spells hit him soundly and he shot across the room, hitting a wall before crumpling into an unconscious, bloody heap on the ground.

"The fuck! Ginny!"

"Hermione! Merlin, look at her! Come on Hermione, wake up!"

"Oh god, someone get us a Portkey to St. Mungo's _now_!"

**Xxxxx**

Tired eyes watched her two best friends – rather, it seemed more like ex-best friends these days – pace across the room as Aurors and several Ministry officials stood on the side waiting for their orders.

"So you're saying you don't know what happened?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, only reaching up to tug up the sleeve that had dropped, leaving an indecorous amount of skin showing. "I told you, I don't remember."

"Hermione," Ron started slowly, his face tense as he stopped at the foot of his bed while Harry stared out the window, the same tension etched into his countenance. "If you don't tell us, we'll be forced to use Veritaserum."

"It won't work, Ron, she's immune to it." Harry answered dryly as he glanced briefly at the expressionless face of the curly-haired witch he once believed he could trust with his very life and _still believed_.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! We have seven eye witnesses to say that you pulled off some unknown dark magic, resurrected a bloody Death Eater whose body we buried ourselves, and you're lying there, telling us you don't _know_ anything?" His face turned ruddy with color, lips blustering, hating the calm air his ex-girlfriend held about her despite the accusations leveled at her.

"Dark magic?" She lifted an eyebrow, staring at him as though he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I presume those were Ginny's words?"

"Stop that, Hermione." Harry's quiet voice sounded as he came to stand by the bed. He leaned over and picked up a hand, so small and thin between his as he pressed a kiss on the knuckles. "Please, just tell us what happened."

Her eyes flickered to the incredulous look Ron was shooting at the messy-haired bespectacled man before tugging her hand back and folding it on her lap.

"I told you, I don't know."

Ron let out a frustrated howl and Harry simply watched her with disappointed eyes.

"If you don't, Lestrange could very well walk free. All he needs is a decent solicitor or man of business with the most basic knowledge of the Wizarding law to stand before the Wizengamot and argue his case. In addition to that, he was bequeathed the wealth of the Lestrange family, vaults and vaults unable to be touched upon by the Ministry all at his disposal to wreak whatever havoc he would want to."

She blinked and nodded slowly, "I see. This incident would make him a new man, absolved of his previous life's sins."

"_Incident_? You call this an incident? This defies all laws of logic and I'm surprised it was even possible!" Ron all but shrieked.

"It's possible because it was _her_." Another voice spoke up.

"Luna!" Harry said as the small witch shuffled in, her dreamy airs making her seem even more delicate.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked with a small smile to her features.

The pale-haired witch nodded before returning with a smile of her own, "I'm fine," she cast a small survey of the small crowd and then threw both Harry and Ron a displeased look, "This is against protocol, you know." The two men blinked, their cheeks flushing as she walked over to a chair next to the bed and sat down. "I'm no expert but aren't there rules for interrogating injured witnesses?"

"But she's not a witness Miss Lovegood. She's been categorized as a possible accomplice to Alecto Carrow's kidnapping and torture." One of the officials spoke up.

Her cornflower blue irises settled on him and she smiled beatifically, "Accomplice? You must be funning me."

"No," Harry answered, avoiding a pair of curious brown eyes. "It's true."

"Ah," she said lightly, tapping a finger on her chin, "You'll forgive me when I say that that's quite the mistake to make."


	3. Chapter 3

**Gift For: **scifichick774**  
Title: **Eleusinian Mysteries (Return)**  
Author: **Svelte Rose**  
Summary: **He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to ensnare her mind, body, and soul. _She was his_ _for the taking_.**  
Pairing: **Rabastan Lestrange, Hermione Granger**  
Rating: **NC-17**  
Warnings: **Dubious consent, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, violence, and a possible cliff-hanger**  
Spoilers: **Basic HP stuff…**  
****Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: I don't think I followed the prompts very well _at all_, scifichick774, so I offer my deepest apologies. When the challenge first came to me, I thought I could do it especially since the plot bunny reared its cute, furry head so quick. But then it swerved to an off-road like a bad driver and [un]fortunately, this is the end result. With a dynamic such as Rabastan's and Hermione's, my muse was very stubborn on how she wanted to see this work out. Hope you enjoy!

**xxxxx**

Alecto struggled against the magical bounds as she stood before the age-weary faces of the Wizengamot members. She had attempted to glance around but petrified as she was, only her eyeballs were allowed to circle the austere judges in front of her.

The scratch of parchment was heard as the paper unfurled and a droll voice read off her crimes.

_Kidnapping. Torture. Use of an Unforgivable. Use of duress and aggravated assault._

She didn't hear the words. _She needed to see him. She needed to know why he chose that –_

"Please lift the silencing spell."

As immediately as the spell had been lifted did she begin speaking her defense.

"You be careful. Every single one of you. No one should have been able to accomplish such a deed, bringing those back from the dead. That's nothing like anything I've ever seen before and I've practiced the Forbidden spells my entire life. You'd have to sell your soul for that sort of _foul_ magic." Her will stamped an iron-grip control on her sanity as she fought an inner battle to keep her voice from growing in volume. _These simpering fools. What did they know about anything except their damn square offices?_

"Please control yourself, Miss Carrow." One of the female judges commanded, her stern tones halting the blonde's rants.

She stopped, breaths coming out in heavy gasps as her Dementor ravaged mind gnawed slowly at any vestige of control she had left.

"Would you point out who this perpetrator is?" Another asked, his calm tones soothing her just slightly. He flicked his wand, lifting the spell from her stiff body.

Nodding violently, she turned around in her chains and striped uniform to glance at the crowd before her. Then, as if time stilled, her eyes widened as grey clashed with blue.

_He was here! _A gleeful voice within her spoke as she licked her cracked lips and lifted up her chin. A breath of relief passed through her lips as she smiled slightly at the silly wish for nothing more than a simple scourgify spell and a hairbrush. _Laud, she must look an awful fright! _

_But it didn't matter did it?_ She smiled confidently. _They had a connection. It was something unfounded; if she felt it, then someone with his caliber_ must_ know of it._

"Rabastan," she whispered, her hands grappling at her face as though she could not believe he was there. She brought them down when her eyes caught sight of the grime that coated the long digits and collected under her broken nails.

But he was there. The dimmed lighting of the courtroom resolved the gentleman in his late twenties – just as she'd last remembered him – wearing pristine black robes and matching dark grey trousers.

He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. She'd often wondered why his family, the infamous Lestrange family, hadn't contracted an arranged marriage just as they had with his elder brother but it wasn't something she'd often disparaged.

Especially when he'd begun their dalliance – or rather, she had when she arrived in his bedroom with such intentions – during the crux of the second Dark War.

_She didn't care that he made her glamour herself with brown curls and brown eyes. He was hers, had been all hers every single night even if...brief. _

Fine black hair grew back from his high forehead and his aquiline nose. Sharply cut cheekbones that were reminiscent of the Lestrange most basic physical features. Winged dark brows that only served to accentuate the deeply set blue eyes fringed generously by thick, long lashes.

_Devilishly handsome did not begin to describe him._

"Darling, did you tell them? Did you tell them all that I went through for you? For _us_?" Her teeth clacked and her torso shook. She licked her lips again, fingers combing through her dirt-streaked blonde hair, knotting it even more so.

_Not even a flicker of emotion._ But she waited, pouring every bit of her feeling into her stare knowing full well he hated loud displays, much as she wanted to begin shrieking anew.

Finally, he cocked his head to the right and she breathed a sigh of relief.

_But wait…no. He wasn't looking at her anymore. Who was he looking at? _She followed his gaze and her own eyes immediately hardened to the likeness of stone slabs.

"Filth!" A high pitched shriek sounded, causing many of the court's observers to jump in their seats at the sheer volume that echoed throughout the magnificent acoustics of the room.

_She'd recognized that dark look in his eyes anywhere, recognized how it seemed as though the Mediterranean sea itself changed when the dark clouds of a dangerous storm settled over the clear, aqua blue waters. _

"You slut!" She raved, having long dropped all pretenses of calm civility.

She remembered now. Remembered how he'd thrown her aside like a piece of trash, defending the sort that didn't _deserve_ their blood but nonetheless, _had it_. In this case, it was in abundance.

She had hated how her comrades raved about what they'd do to Potter's mudblood if they ever caught the snobbish witch and the high price the much revered Dark Lord placed upon her head almost equivalent to the Boy-Who-Lived himself. Many raved that she was the most clever witch of this lifetime and Alecto had scoffed every single time those words had been uttered, even engaging in a duel when one of her opponent refused to relent.

Then Greyback, the filthy Lycanth finally caught her traipsing around with the bloody bastard spawn of James and Lily Potter. Thankfully, Bellatrix – who hated the chit almost as much as she had – got a hold of her first._ Even that had been difficult as Fenrir had all but announced his intentions._

At least he knew where his duties lie.

That particular Lestrange woman knew her way around the Dark Arts almost as well as Dark Lord himself and in the hour long session at the Malfoy mansion, Bellatrix had made sure the young witch knew it too. But even she had to be losing her touch if the mudblood tramp suffered no side effects. She remembered how angered she was when she heard the chit had lied - _lied_ - through an entire hour's worth of the Cruciatus.

_Therefore, other means of pressure needed to be used. _If the filthy bitch could withstand a curse that had driven many out of their mind, then she refused to make the same mistake Bellatrix had made.

And she had done it. She had forced the smug little witch to bend at her knees to do her bidding.

She smirked at the irony. _Still,_ _Hermione Granger succeeded. She succeeded the sort of magic only the Dark Lord could have accomplished, except he paid with his soul and she…_

_What had been her currency?_

Her fevered eyes waved between the two individuals.

Alecto's world crashed as she realized the truth.

"You finally fucked her, didn't you? I know you were obsessed with her Rabastan but _honestly_…" She harshly whispered, still loud enough for the courtroom to hear. It didn't matter if she knew deep down it was a lie but she wasn't so stupid as to mistake that look in his eyes for anything other than lust –

– directed at the most ill-deserved individual possible.

"Please do not make such personal attacks." One of the wizards commented as he nodded to the Chief Warlock.

But she didn't hear.

_She'd given herself to him in every sense of the word. Every night, even though hers had not been the name he'd screamed until his voice grew hoarse, even though hers was not the face he wanted to see…_

But now, with the two in such close proximity next to each other, she could not deny seeing the lust that burned deep in the recess of those blue irises.

_Lust that wasn't for her._

She snarled.

_That bitch had tainted him! Tainted him with her dirty blood and taken him away from her!_

Gasps sounded through the courtroom as the brunette turned her molten brown eyes at Alecto, incredulous mixed with fury as she started to rise. Her solicitor grabbed her arm, halting her and pulling her gently back down.

Alecto ignored her and focused on the one man who held her salvation in his large, aristocratic hands. It was no longer lust but possessiveness she saw, the steel-glint that entered his eyes when the solicitor – one whom she recognized as the useless offspring of the ponce, Pucey – had laid his hand on _the filth_.

"Rabastan, look at me!" She cried, wanting to step forward but couldn't. "You can't possibly think to destroy generations of breeding for that wench!"

"Order!" The head of the Wizengamot ordered as he slammed his gavel, "Order in the courtroom!"

She ignored him and continued, "But you have already, haven't you? You want her, just as you had before, just as Rodolphus had, and Lucius, and Fenrir, and Antonin – no wonder the Dark Lord lost his war!" There was another chorus of gasps at this and the murmurs grew in volume, the loud banging of the gavel only adding to the cacophony. "You lot were too busy panting after that foul whore! No doubt she's probably been taken by that bloody Potter git trotting about half of Europe _alone_. She's sullied! Don't disease yourself with her!"

"Order, I say! ORDER!"

"_I loved you_!" She shrieked at his expressionless face, still cold and severe as she leveled her accusations at him bringing much of the private politics within the Death Eaters out into the public. "I have always been there for you and now I _need_ you!"She needed to see some sort of emotion, something reminiscent of the brief flares of passion when she'd brought him to his climax. "Say something!"

_But nothing._

Flash bulbs went off as Quick-Quotes quills went insane.

"SILENCE!"

A spell exploded above them, showering every single one of them in sparks as the Chief Warlock, face red with fury, held his wand in a tight grip.

The noise level died and the quills slowed but the flashbulbs still went off.

Alecto glanced at the brunette witch, now pale as a ghost as her solicitor patted her and brought a glass of water to her lips.

_Pathetic dog lowering himself to help the likes of her. _Her lip curled up in a nasty snarl.

"The accusations, Mister Lestrange?" One of the Wizengamot – the female again – asked.

The corners of his lips curled and Alecto couldn't help the fluttering that began in her chest.

_If she didn't know better, she'd have thought him a Veela, able to enthrall people by just releasing pheromones._

"All true."

The gasps and noise level began, and the gavel sounded.

"I will throw each and every single one of you out if you do not keep quiet!" He ordered.

**xxxxx**

Hermione pressed two fingers to her lips, unable to do anything else to quell the nausea that threatened to bring her breakfast up and decorate the Wizengamot chambers. She felt her fingers being squeezed and looked over at her solicitor, Adrian Pucey. Able to only give a shakey smile, she returned focus on the court proceedings.

"I would like to motion for a suspension of parliamentary rules in the interest of gathering post-war information on the activities of the terrorist group, the Death Eaters so as to avoid future incidents."

"Terrorist group?" she scoffed, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

Adrian leaned in. "There will be the barest minimum of courtroom decorum here today. Look, they're soaking in all publicity this has received. Suspending parliamentary rules will allow this cacophony to continue and give the Ministry exactly what it wants."

"Publicity. Everyone loves a story." But she didn't look. Instead, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, a muscle in her cheek twitching as she opened her eyes. Brown clashed with blue as she narrowed her eyes in response before quickly looking away.

"I second that motion."

**xxxx**

Rabastan stood up, his eyes only flickering once to the curly-haired brunette and despite the consternation that was etched across his solicitor's face – Nott, was it? – he nodded and continued.

"It's true," He repeated, "All of it. You can hardly deny us for wanting to spoil Potter's filly. We sought power and she had it in abundance. Not to mention what shape _the Order _would be if not for her feats in battle.

"Had I the penchant for poetry, I'd liken her to the Goddess of Death, Persephone herself." He smiled ruefully. "Did you know she was rumored to be just as beautiful as Hera, supposedly the most beautiful of them all?" He walked around the table, every bit the gentleman as he turned to the audience with his hands slightly outstretched.

**xxxx**

_He was drawing them in. _Hermione clenched her fist. She could see the smiles, blushes and hear the tittering going on behind their handkerchiefs.

_She was right. _He _had_ been content hiding behind the more illustrious Lestranges, letting them do all the work.

_And now..._She narrowed her eyes.

He was manipulating them. He was manipulating every single one of them just as Tom Riddle had done during his earlier years.

_She had no proof. No proof whatsoever._

She pressed two fingers into her lips.

_He was every bit as dangerous as she knew him to be._


	4. Chapter 4

**Gift For: **scifichick774**  
Title: **Eleusinian Mysteries (Return)**  
Author: **Svelte Rose**  
Summary: **He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to ensnare her mind, body, and soul. _She was his_ _for the taking_.**  
Pairing: **Rabastan Lestrange, Hermione Granger**  
Rating: **NC-17**  
Warnings: **Dubious consent, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, violence, and a possible cliff-hanger**  
Spoilers: **Basic HP stuff…**  
****Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: I don't think I followed the prompts very well _at all_, scifichick774, so I offer my deepest apologies. When the challenge first came to me, I thought I could do it especially since the plot bunny reared its cute, furry head so quick. But then it swerved to an off-road like a bad driver and [un]fortunately, this is the end result. With a dynamic such as Rabastan's and Hermione's, my muse was very stubborn on how she wanted to see this work out. Hope you enjoy!

**xxxxx**

"You should have seen her. She was _magnificent_ and you'd be a fool to not recognize the control she had over her magic. I'd be hard-pressed not to admit that instead of casting the 'Avada Kedavra,' I wanted to fuck her senseless, driving her into the ground so hard –,"

The wide-eyed, pole-axed looks of the crowd could not be ignored. Even the judges of the Wizengamot themselves were shocked into silence.

Adrian rose, his face red with fury as he glared at the wizard standing in the middle of the courtroom. "This is completely _out of line_ and my client will not stand for the impugning of her character!"

"You want to fuck her too, don't you?" His friendly gaze was gone, replaced by an immense sense of harm to anyone who crossed his path.

"Again, out of line." Adrian responded, this time much more in control of his emotions. Though, they could not ignore the red splattered across his cheeks as sky blue eyes glared hatefully at the tall man before them.

A slender hand reached up and tugged gently at him, her brown eyes ignoring the flashing dark blue orbs as she pulled her solicitor back down.

Pucey relented, his back rigid as he clenched at the edge of the table, knuckles turning white from the immense pressure. He only seemed to calm when his client ran her hand up and down his back and leaned in to whisper to him.

Rabastan felt his rage growing inside. _He wished he hadn't checked his wand at the door or he'd have spelled this fuck into oblivion._

"He's trying to get a rise out of you, don't let him win." She whispered in his ear, gripping tightly at his forearm.

Adrian took in deep amounts of breath and nodded but his grip did not leave the table. He turned to her and licked his lips, "It's a madhouse in here. We won't get anything done if it carries on like this."

"I know, I know –,"

"He's not good enough for you, love." The silky smooth tones interjected as the wizard brushed off an imaginary lint from his sleeve.

Her gaze flickered briefly towards him, nausea tickling the back of her throat. "Stop."

"Anything for you," he murmured, taking one step closer.

"Rabastan!" Alecto screamed from her area. "Look at me, Rabastan!"

He was everything congenial once more when he spun on his heel and faced the witch, "Yes?"

Her teeth shook as she dropped to her knees, "Please, I beg of you. Stop this – you know I _love_ you. She doesn't deserve you nor give you the devotion I can. Just –,"

"And you think you do?" He countered, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robes. Then he strode up to her, not missing the relieved sighs the curly-haired witch behind him let out.

"Wh-what?" She stuttered, her eyes confused.

"Deserve me, you think you deserve me?" He repeated waving a hand flippantly.

A crack appeared in her armor as she grasped at a sound reply to give, "Y-yes. You can't deny what was between us. Your honor wouldn't allow that. I know you, she doesn't. I know what makes you react in the most basic of senses, I know what makes you peak –,"

"It's easy for men." The tittering started up once more.

"Mr. Lestrange, that is out of line! Please return to your seat!"

"No, let him continue!" Alecto ordered, her controlled tones surprising those who'd heard her delusional ravings just moments ago.

The Chief Warlock's jaw dropped and he moved to hit with his gavel. The female Wizengamot judge had caught his arm and shook her head, motioning to the other judges who seemed far more interested in the display of theatrics than whatever the correct progressions of the court were. He glanced at the crowd, riveted on the pair and sat back, resigned and grudgingly admitting that this was the most press release they'd received since the last time when Harry Potter last graced the courtrooms.

"Really now, you can't believe you were the only one, can you? You were a bed warmer, yes. A good one, I'll give you that."

She smiled bitterly, the fight slowly ebbing from her person but she couldn't help at one last attempt, "Yes, I knew of the others. But I thought ours was something –,"

"Special?" He laughed lightly, the rich baritone sounds sending more than just a warm feeling down the toes of many females in the courtroom. "This isn't one of those gothic novels Umbridge was so fond of.

"I _told you. _We all wanted her – the one forbidden fruit we weren't allowed to touch." He chuckled to himself. "Good heavens, it is a gothic novel." He walked over to her and leaned in, just close enough to tease the woman. "Why do you think Voldemort ordered a King's ransom for her capture?"

"This can't be happening," she murmured more to herself than for anyone's ears.

He'd heard though and didn't mind stepping dangerously close. "One more thing,"

Hopeful grey eyes, red from lack of sleep and a day's worth of crying looked up.

"My mother was a half-blood. My great grandfather was a Muggle and his uncle before that." He chuckled, "My family and I were very averse to breeding within our own blood. There's just something so very wrong about it all that we've just never found the appeal."

Her eyes widened, blood draining furthermore from her already pale countenance, "But the Dark Lord…he accepted you and Bellatrix married Rodolphus –,"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "Voldemort wanted power and influence. As head of the Lestrange family, our networks weren't to be ignored if he wanted to accomplish what he desired. Bellatrix had known but it was an arrange marriage sealed with a Wizarding bond done by her family who'd only found out afterwards. You must have noticed their lack of shared use of their marriage bed."

She did. Everyone in the ranks knew the two were only friendly with one another when they were torturing and killing others. "Then why join?"

"My father was bored and when he made the choice to join, he'd made the choice for future generations." She thought she discerned a slight amount of bitterness in his voice but that was brushed from her mind as his lofty airs took more precedence.

"No," Her sob caught on her throat as she crumpled to the ground. "You're lying, you must be. You can't – no! NO!"

The gavel sounded. "Please take your seat, Mister Lestrange."

Rabastan swiftly turned on his heel.

"NO!" Alecto repeated, hands clawing at her face.

"Miss Carrow, I must order you to –," The Chief Warlock began, his austere tones broke no argument.

She ignored him and continued, "I put my life on the line for you!" Then she nodded frantically, eyes bright with tears, "That, that bitch –," A boney finger pointed at the witch in question who held a hand over her mouth. "That bitch would not give up! The seven idiots were easy to handle alright but you –," She lunged at the bars, forcing her face in between to stare at Hermione. "You just _wouldn't give up_ would you?" Her tones took on a sing-song quality, causing more than one shiver in the audience. "Not until their lives were on the line, especially Potter's mutt –,"

"I think we can safely say this court is adjourned. May I please request a recess?" Adrian announced in dry tones as he cast a satisfied glance to Hermione.

Hermione simply stared. She was still reeling from all the previous confessions the man she'd returned from the dead had made to the packed courtroom. Mortification didn't even begin to describe it. Though, public scrutiny was probably the last thing on her mind.

_This would just give the Ministry even more reasons to station more Aurors around her – safety and all that rot. Never mind the fact that they probably wouldn't be able to handle Lestrange if he _did _attempt anything. _

She suspected he had been content hiding behind the shadow of his brother and sister-in-law, that his true potential was never really understood. She had been duly surprised when his name appeared on the 'deceased' list.

_Hell, they still didn't know how he died and even though reports pointed the Order at fault, she suspected some sort of foul play._

"But wait!" Alecto gleefully cackled at the composed, though pale-faced witch. "Someone did lose their life, didn't they? Tell me…how is that Weasel-bitch doing? I think it might've been a boy, with his hair and her eyes –,"

"You shut the fuck up, right now!" Harry shot up from his seat, anger palpitating from his body as he pushed through the crowd. "I'll kill you, you disgusting useless bint!"

"Good." She murmured simply dropping back down into the seat, "I'll see your mutt in hell then."

The gavel banged once more as the Chief Warlock dabbed at his forehead before tiredly announcing, "Court is adjourned. We will reconvene in two hours."


	5. Chapter 5

**Gift For: **scifichick774**  
Title: **Eleusinian Mysteries (Return)**  
Author: **Svelte Rose**  
Summary: **He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to ensnare her mind, body, and soul. _She was his_ _for the taking_.**  
Pairing: **Rabastan Lestrange, Hermione Granger**  
Rating: **NC-17**  
Warnings: **Dubious consent, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, violence, and a possible cliff-hanger**  
Spoilers: **Basic HP stuff…**  
****Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: I don't think I followed the prompts very well _at all_, scifichick774, so I offer my deepest apologies. When the challenge first came to me, I thought I could do it especially since the plot bunny reared its cute, furry head so quick. But then it swerved to an off-road like a bad driver and [un]fortunately, this is the end result. With a dynamic such as Rabastan's and Hermione's, my muse was very stubborn on how she wanted to see this work out. Hope you enjoy!

**xxxxx**

She splashed her face with water, bowed at the sink as her hands grasped for the paper towel dispenser.

"Here."

Hermione took and wiped her face, murmuring her thanks before immediately stiffening and backing away.

Rabastan smirked, his hands tucked away in the pockets of his trousers, eyes never once leaving her. "Better?"

She stopped, chastising herself for being so skittish. _The man would be insane to try something in broad daylight in the bloody Ministry! _"Yes, thank you."

His head bowed and she quickly took this chance to brush past him.

A hand shot out and caught her arm in an iron-grip.

She halted, contemptuously glaring at him. "Let me go, Lestrange."

His dark blue eyes probed into hers as he pressed his face so close, she could smell the after-shave he'd used, "I wasn't kidding about what I'd said in the courtroom, Hermione."

She knew he hadn't been. She also knew the exact number that Voldemort had set for her capture – a King's ransom _ten times over._ She was all too aware of the dangers she'd been courting but truly understanding it hadn't really been on top of her 'to do' list during the war. _After the war_, it was simply an old memory unfit to even contemplate. After all, what was the point reminiscing on what _could have_ happened?

_She'd been so young when she became involved…it just seemed like second nature to expect that as one of Harry Potter's closest, she'd be relegated to one of the Most Wanted on the Death Eater's list._

_But hearing him talk about her like that in front of all those people…it only gave her a fraction of an idea of what she might have gone through had she been captured. _

She was slightly – the barest, most minimal amount – relieved that she'd been captured by Bellatrix. _Well, Fenrir had been the one to technically capture her but thankfully, nothing happened._

"Don't say my name!" She snapped, jerking at her arm to no avail. "And I don't care, I wasn't even listening!"

"Liar, liar," He sang, jerking her slender frame back before grabbing her other arm, "I know you heard every word I said." He whispered.

She couldn't help the shudder that ran down her frame especially when his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Stop this."

"What the hell is going on?" A voice stated coldly.

Both heads lifted up to stare at the red-hair, eyes bloodshot as she entered the bathroom. "Hermione?"

She tugged at her arms and thankfully, he dropped them, "Nothing Ginny. Just discussing the case, that's all."

"Really? Another one of your lies?" Ginny murmured in an accusatory tone.

Hermione sighed before stepping towards the door. _She was really getting tired of the name-calling._

"Don't. You. Dare. Leave. I have a few words for you." The red-head snarled, stepping in front of her, blocking her escape.

"What?" The brunette asked, resigned to her fate.

"Alecto was right."

Brown eyes widened.

"Yes, she was the main perpetrator, yes, she kidnapped us. But she wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been for you. If it hadn't been for something she wanted from _you._" Ginny harshly spoke, her voice raspy with emotion.

"I know." Hermione responded, her own sympathetic. "And I'm sorry, I truly am –,"

"Why didn't you listen to her? You knew she wasn't lying! Because if you had listened –," The witch rambled on, her hands covering her head as she looked to the ground, tears dripping from her blue eyes. "James wouldn't be dead right now."

"I know." She repeated, stepping back, both witches having forgotten the third presence in the small room. "But I couldn't, you must know –,"

"No! No, I _don't _know! Because you _did it anyway_!" She stabbed a shaking finger at Rabastan. "I was just as surprised as the rest of us when he bloody appeared out of nowhere even though I _had watched his body burned and then buried_."

Hermione took another step back, hitting a solid wall of muscle behind her. She ignored it and shook her head, "I don't know how she knew. I don't know how she found out. You have to believe me that it wasn't supposed to happen, he's not suppose to be here."

Ginny shook her head bitterly, "But he is and James isn't."

"Ginny, I'm so _sorry_ –,"

A crack sounded through the air as her head snapped back from the force of Ginny's slap. Two hands steadied her and she tugged away, wiping at the corner of her mouth.

"Ginny! Hermione!" A new voice sounded from the doorway.

Rabastan rolled his eyes as the green-eyed boy-wonder entered the room _just in the nick of time_.

"Bring James back, the way you brought him back." Ginny whispered, her voice laced with sorrow as her husband gathered her up in his arms.

"I can't, you know I can't," Hermione rubbed her cheek, "You know that even if I could, it wouldn't be the same. He was killed in your stomach –," _Shite. She shouldn't have spoken so candidly._

"Bring him back! Just bring him back!" The red-head cried, lunging for the brunette as Harry tightly held her, his face surprisingly blank.

Hermione felt a strong arm reach around her waist and tug at her. Shocked, she demurred far quicker than expected as Rabastan placed her behind his tall figure before he demanded in an austere tone, "Control your wife, Potter."

"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" Harry all but snarled as Ginny collapsed sobbing his arms.

Rabastan didn't reply and instead, turned his head to the slender witch behind him, staring into the air and whispering to herself as though the words were a mantra, "_It wasn't supposed to happen._"

**Xxxxx**

"I would like to call Charlie Weasley as a witness," Adrian announced. The stocky red-haired individual made his way to the stand.

Hermione grasped at the water glass and drank heavily, ignoring the burning gaze digging a hole in the back of her head. The court room was significantly reduced, the members of the Wizengamot having barred the public from the rest of the proceedings. She winced at the stinging sensation and gently wiped at her mouth as the court Interrogator went up while Adrian sat back down in his seat.

"Your name."

"Charlie Weasley,"

"Age."

"Twenty-six."

"What were you doing in the basement of abandoned Warehouse 734 on Thistlebee Ave?"

"I was kidnapped."

"By whom?"

"Miss Alecto Carrow."

Hermione rubbed her forehead as the questioning continued. The hours passed as each and every single witness – Bill, Fleur, Ginny, etc. – were called. Ginny's had been the most accusatory of them all but even then, they knew where the ruling would turn.

_The worst part was, the Unspeakables had been notified which mean heavy involvement by the Ministry. Pensieves would be drawn first to be stored away – something she didn't entirely agree with. Bringing back the dead with magic that was unheard of and the repercussions were vast and varied. _

_And the Aurors they placed around her? Protection, her arse. They would be nothing more than spies. _

_Never mind the fact that Voldemort's reign of terror was still fresh on the public conscience added with the possible chance that he could come back… _

She shook her head. Strangely enough, that wasn't the scary part._ At least he was dead and nobody wanted him back but those with deceased loved ones…_

Rumors had spread and immediately after being discharged from St. Mungo's, she had to barricade her flat's windows to the barrage of owls that swarmed her building. The floo had been disconnected and the Ministry had seen fit to designate two bodyguards with her at all times despite the fact that she was more than deft at handling her – no, Bellatrix's – wand.

_Molly Weasley had been one of the most persistent._

She buried her head in her arms, blowing out a deep breath. _There was only one person she'd do this again for but the lady in question hadn't contacted her after the first time and unless the invitation was forthcoming, she would hardly go looking for trouble._

The gavel banged for the final time, causing her to jerk upright in her seat. She stretched her neck, accepting with a strained smile the relieved smiles Luna threw her when the wraith-like girl passed her table.

"The Ministry wants to speak with you tomorrow at eleven sharp – maybe breakfast at ten?" Adrian asked as he dropped his pocket watch back into his pocket.

Hermione nodded, "I'll meet you?"

Adrian flashed her a relieved smile – though relief from what, she did not known – and helped her with her suit jacket, "The coffee shop just two blocks from here, my treat."

She was surprised when he pressed a kiss on her cheek and then even more so when she saw the worry in his eyes, "Be careful, alright? It's pandemonium out there."

"I will, thanks."

A dangerous glint flashed in a pair of blue eyes, unnoticed by either one.


	6. Chapter 6

**Gift For: **scifichick774**  
Title: **Eleusinian Mysteries (Return)**  
Author: **Svelte Rose**  
Summary: **He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to ensnare her mind, body, and soul. _She was his_ _for the taking_.**  
Pairing: **Rabastan Lestrange, Hermione Granger**  
Rating: **NC-17**  
Warnings: **Dubious consent, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, violence, and a possible cliff-hanger**  
Spoilers: **Basic HP stuff…**  
****Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: I don't think I followed the prompts very well _at all_, scifichick774, so I offer my deepest apologies. When the challenge first came to me, I thought I could do it especially since the plot bunny reared its cute, furry head so quick. But then it swerved to an off-road like a bad driver and [un]fortunately, this is the end result. With a dynamic such as Rabastan's and Hermione's, my muse was very stubborn on how she wanted to see this work out. Hope you enjoy!

**xxxxx**

"We're placing you under house arrest until we fully figure out what happened. The Unspeakables don't want to take any chances. We're also worried about your safety, what with the rot that Lestrange was spewing today." Hermione's eyes widened at the ultimatum – or rather, the person who'd delivered it. She had years of becoming accustomed to his characteristics and if the flushed cheeks was anything to go by, he didn't seem pleased with the predicament.

Harry sat down in the chair across the table, "Hermione, please. If you could just agree to redo the spell for them so they could observe, then maybe they'll relent and give a lesser sentence. Who knows how long it'll last."

"Not for long if I have anything to say about it," Adrian cut in as he glared at the two Aurors, flanked by two Unspeakables, one she recognized as Blaise Zabini.

"We're well within our rights to," he responded blithely.

"The most you could hold her is for three weeks, no longer!" Adrian argued back, "Especially since she hasn't even been convicted of anything. She _can't _be convicted of anything."

"She deliberately altered the natural state of certain beings. There is no protocol for such but we can argue a manipulation of time, which I'm sure you all know, is an offense worthy of the Kiss," Blaise answered casually.

"No you can't," she cut in tiredly, "Because I didn't manipulate time."

"You brought back someone from the dead," his bored tone seemed to brook no argument, "Matter that had long ago decomposed brought back to life."

She shook her head and repeated, "No. If you dig up the urn containing the ashes of his previous body, you'll find it very much undisturbed."

"Besides, the witness accounts clearly point at her being put under duress," Adrian finished.

"Hermione, come on," Ron pleaded, "Bringing someone back from the dead?" He flashed his all-too familiar crooked smile, "Only you would be able to pull off something out of this world like that. It's unrivaled and you can't blame them for wanting to understand something wizards and witches have been trying to accomplish across the ages."

_Unless her memory was failing – which she knew was not – those were not the words he'd been speaking when she first woke up in the hospital cot._

She shook her head, "I told you, I can't do it. I can hardly remember what happened myself." _It was a lie but she had to say it._

"Then allow us to take a pensieve," Harry cajoled in a gentle voice.

"No. Take it from the others, you have seven accounts – there's no need for mine." She refused to relent. _They should know better. _

Blaise lifted an eyebrow, "But yours was the only one with a clear view of the ritual itself. Don't you remember how they were positioned? That's hardly the ideal way to observe a resurrection ritual. The accounts are fuzzy at most and most of them couldn't make out the drawings or really hear what you said."

"Hermione, please," Harry tried once more.

She turned to man next to her, "Adrian, only three weeks correct?"

He nodded.

_Sure, she'd been elated at first when she had figured out a two thousand plus year old secret and she certainly hadn't expected it to work. She, of all people, understood the repercussions. _

_She was the one who had to deal with them._

_She would deal – not exacerbate the problem even more by relenting to their curious minds and heartfelt sentiments. That was what caused this debacle in the first place – a curious mind and a heartbroken mother. _

_She knew the dead were supposed to stay dead._

_She hadn't expected it to go this far –_

– _or turn out successfully._

It was bad enough that one of Voldemort's highest ranking Death Eater would be walking free after his _easy_ trial tomorrow; Theodore Nott _was_ one of the best in the field and with him working for Lestrange, the trial wouldn't last beyond five minutes.

Harry and Ron exchanged looks, one she'd seen far too often.

"Alright, it's your funeral." _It wasn't going to end after three weeks. The Ministry wouldn't be the only one after her. Her refusal to give them her pensieve only worsened the situation._

"And I welcome it." Hermione's grim features proved the finality of her words.

**Xxxxx**

With a well-cast glamour charm and nondescript clothing, she stepped into a small Wizarding Villa off the coast of France; just one more thing she'd enjoy before they took away her Apparating license for the next three weeks.

She pushed the door open to the pub and made her way through the noisy crowd, quickly ordering a bottle of Firewhisky to nurse.

At least here, she was in no danger of being mauled by owls and the like. The disguise went a long way in helping that objective. Wizarding London had become unbearable especially since the owls were now ordered to not return their parcel when rejected and instead, waited until they could drop it on her unsuspecting head…literally.

_It explained the large knot on the side of her head._

Finding a dark corner, she poured herself a glass and gingerly sipped, wincing as it left a trail of fire down her throat.

_How had Carrow found out?_

She sipped, a finger running along the edge of her glass as she studied a rather intriguing pattern on the scratched table. It was no use trying to forget the fact that a Death Eater just recently manumitted from Azkaban had been the one to find out about her activities. The idea of the deranged Carrow following her around without her knowledge was more than alarming.

Despite the war having ended, several years ago in fact, she still slept with one eye opened. With such a _forbidden_ project, she had paid the utmost attention to discretion.

And yet, it still resulted in the worst case scenario possibly imagined.

It was both good and bad luck that the deranged witch had been kissed before anybody found out. Good, because that was _one less person_ who knew what she had been up to and bad because she still had no idea how Alecto found out.

_Others might know._

She sipped again, the burn much less this time. While the Dementor's kiss wouldn't have been demanded so freely anytime, the fact that Alecto Carrow had killed an unborn fetus with every possibility of being a wizard during a population decline was already a capital offense. _Not to mention, it_ had_ been the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter's own child._

There would not be any life sentence – not even a consideration.

Despite all that had happened, she felt pity for the woman.

_To be rejected so thoroughly by a man she had obviously devoted her life to…_

This time, the sip was much larger as she recalled his words.

"_We all wanted her – the one forbidden fruit we weren't allowed to touch. Why do you think Voldemort ordered a King's ransom for her capture?"_

She shuddered, remembering the way his eyes pinned her at that exact moment, as if to the drive the very truth of the words home if she thought him a liar.

The pity for Alecto soon turned into weariness and a burgeoning sense of anger – anger at the situation and anger at herself for having discovered and then, being discovered.

_It had been a secret, it was suppose to __**stay **__a secret _and despite her long streak of success, this latest escapade would put her under the microscopic lens to be prodded and tested until they figured out what she had done.

_Thankfully, they never would. _The spell was catered to her own personal magical signature and even then, she still couldn't help but feel astounded that she'd even succeeded. That the ritual had succeeded.

He'd appeared with nary a scratch – _buck naked_ – but he'd appeared. A Death Eater they'd cremated, then buried, had risen from her blood magic and a millenniums old ritual guarded and lost…_until recently_.

The words 'should've never happened, should've never succeeded' kept replaying in her head like a broken record.

_But what other choice did she have? Ginny was correct in that Alecto hadn't been bluffing._

A nauseating feeling churned deep in the pit of her stomach and she swallowed hard.

_It worked._

And it was a lie that she had _done it to buy time_. If that was the case, then she could've very easily made up a convincing ritual. It wasn't as if Alecto knew how to. Had she known, she wouldn't have gone through the trouble of capturing her old comrades and trussing them up like a holiday turkey as a sort of _very convincing _blackmail.

But then what would've happened if it didn't work?This time, she drained her glass and quickly poured another glass. Some of the brown liquid splattered on the weathered table.

_Admit it, Hermione. You wanted to see if it would work._

What a time to throw her inhibitions to the wind just to satiate her curiosity.

Hermione threw the drink back with one single gulp. She was someone who prided herself on making sure all her ventures would result in success.

_Success._

It never seemed so unappealing…until now.

**Xxxxx**

The air smelt of stale Firewhiskey, fermenting butterbeer, and various body odors he could not – did not want to – pick apart. Through that and the poor lighting, he was still able to spot her.

_Glamour only disguised you to those not paying attention. Though, _he briefly smirked, _it had its uses._

He took a seat near the wall, ignoring the expectant looks a group of nearby witches shot him.

_They had no chance._

"Here you go," one of the barmaids spoke – rather, shouted – above all the noise. "Courtesy of that lass over there."

His eyes followed her arm where a fairly attractive witch wiggled her fingers at him, flashing an alluring smile. Blue eyes quickly assessed her in an indolent manner that he knew would have earned him a slap from a _particular witch_ – though he couldn't say for certain but he was _mostly certain _– but otherwise, earned him a lascivious wink.

Raising the mug to the air, he flashed a brief smile and took a nice large gulp. _There was no reason to be rude._

"Eustacia," she introduced, slipping into the seat across.

_She obviously wasted no time. _He nodded, a smirk on his lips while he took another sip. It was obvious she was attractive – he knew it and she knew it.

_Any other time, he would not have hesitated in accepting her intentions. He __**had**__ been celibate for an inordinate amount of time._

But it was an itch that wouldn't be satisfied by just a one-night stand with some random chit. _He had tried_ _that_ _when he was alive before_.

_They were too easy and offered no satisfaction except for a brief release. _That was the problem with fucking the all-too-willing.

His gaze strayed across the room where another witch, obviously deep in her cups, lurched from her seat and staggered towards the back where the washrooms were.

_No, he had a much more important prey in mind. One he'd hunted for the latter half of his first lifetime. _

And by some miracle, he had another chance now –

– a chance _she_ gave.

He laughed at the irony in the matter. Eustacia grinned prettily and continued on.

"Excuse me." He set the mug down, cutting right in the middle of whatever she'd been saying – he clearly hadn't been paying attention – and weaved his way through the crowd.

Eustacia was quickly surrounded by her friends as she blinked in surprise at the back of the handsome wizard she'd been flirting with.

"What happened?"

"I…I don't know."

**Xxxxx**

Hermione kicked the door with her foot, registering only a small flare of pain seconds later. Jiggling the lock some, she pushed the shoddy piece of wood in and entered, lightly closing it behind her.

Had she all her senses about her, she would have been utterly disgusted at the filthy room and never step foot into such a place. Cigarette butts littered the floor joined by random paraphernalia looking as though it had not seen the better end of a 'scourgify' spell in several years. Quickly stifling a gag, she leaned on the grimy wall, standing for a long moment while the light flickered. Alcohol dulled the senses and she found it took a while before she could finally make out a sink.

There was a squeak when the rustled metal turned and then the sound of sputtering water. A sulfuric smell wafted into her nose as brown churned from the faucet and she clamped her jaw shut, feeling the immediate rise of bile.

"Oh god," She groaned before she threw herself from the sink and slammed into the corner where the last hour's worth of Firewhiskey and stomach acids poured from her mouth, splattering all over the floor, walls, and her heels.

Black spots danced before her eyes as she tugged the wand from her back pocket and quickly scourgified the mess.

It was only because she couldn't stand the smell.

The door behind her creaked then clicked and she lifted her head, vision still blurry as the black-clothed figure slowly sauntered up to her.

A faint scent of cologne wafted into her nostrils and Hermione sniffed. _Familiar… _She cocked her head to the side, leaning against the wall for support before waving flippantly at him. "Give me one second to gather my bearings and you can use it."

"A second is all I'll need." The deep, baritone voice, all too silky and all too familiar blew away the alcohol-induced fog that clouded her senses. She immediately straightened up, shooting into a half-run, half-limp towards the door.

He was quicker though.

Her wand was deftly snatched from her just as her one hand reached the knob and twisted.

It didn't give.

She cursed silently before turning around and watching with wary eyes as Rabastan Lestrange twirled her wand before cleanly snapping it in half.

"What the hell!"

A triumphant look flared in his blue eyes as he flicked his wand. "_Quiesco._"


	7. Chapter 7

**Gift For: **scifichick774**  
Title: **Eleusinian Mysteries (Return)**  
Author: **Svelte Rose**  
Summary: **He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to ensnare her mind, body, and soul. _She was his_ _for the taking_.**  
Pairing: **Rabastan Lestrange, Hermione Granger**  
Rating: **NC-17**  
Warnings: **Dubious consent, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, violence, and a possible cliff-hanger**  
Spoilers: **Basic HP stuff…**  
****Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: I don't think I followed the prompts very well _at all_, scifichick774, so I offer my deepest apologies. When the challenge first came to me, I thought I could do it especially since the plot bunny reared its cute, furry head so quick. But then it swerved to an off-road like a bad driver and [un]fortunately, this is the end result. With a dynamic such as Rabastan's and Hermione's, my muse was very stubborn on how she wanted to see this work out. Hope you enjoy!

**xxxxx**

The first thing she had noticed was not the draft across her bare body but rather, the two hammers simultaneously smashing about in her head. The room was dark – _thankfully enough_ – as she knew from previous experience that sunlight did nothing more than exacerbate a fierce hangover.

She fumbled about before pausing slightly and then looking down. A small sliver of light at the bottom of the drapes allowed her to see the clear shadows of her breasts and nipples.

Hermione groaned as her cheeks flushed, hands tugging at the bed sheets.

A chuckle sounded before the sound of feet padding across the floor could be heard. She could just vaguely make out the outline of a tall, broad shouldered male. He opened the drapes just barely, at the far edge of the room, his profile highlighted just briefly before he stepped from the small stream of sunlight.

"Here," he handed her a small vial and pointed to the glass of water next to her nightstand.

It took her a while to get her muscles working but once she did, she was able to pop off the cork and sniff at it suspiciously. He clearly didn't seem offended at her actions if the smirk adorning his face was anything to go by.

_Not that she was at all worried about offending him. Fucking arse could rot for all she cared._

Having made sure it was only a bottle of sobering potion, she dumped it back, gagging briefly at the bitter taste before quickly reaching for the water glass.

The relief seemed immediate and her nausea ebbed away to a dull pain in her stomach. She recalled that she hadn't had any food since yesterday morning and rubbed it in a chagrined manner.

_Asking for food would be giving up and it was far too early in the game to do so._

Because that's what it was. For some reason or another, she'd been kidnapped – again – only this time, there was no chance of escape and there would be no negotiation.

She had been captured and all the previous mentions of danger came swarming back with a vengeance.

_Why hadn't she taken better care in watching her back? She was clearly not thinking straightly. She must have been trying to tempt death. _

"Better?" His deep voice rumbled.

_He didn't _sound_ like he wanted to kill her._

She nodded and pulled the thin cotton tighter around herself. Her senses were prickling and she didn't need to look at him to know he was studying her undressed state quite unashamedly. "Where are my clothes?"

_But the alternative seemed far worse._

"Disposed of."

"What!?" Hermione sputtered. _First her wand and now her clothes? Did he expect her to walk around in a bed sheet all day? Because she sure as hell was not going to prance about the house naked as the day she was born._

"Don't fret, love." His endearment caused her to flinch. _Unfortunately_, it wasn't quite out of disgust that she did so. "I've an entire wardrobe readied for you."

Hermione drew her knees up and leaned on them fort support. "How long am I going to be here?"

"As long as it takes."

The question, 'for what?' had been on the tip of her tongue but she refrained from asking. She didn't want to hear an answer she was most certain she knew – and did not like.

"I'll escape."

"No you won't." He wasn't lying. "And even if you did," he added, "I'd find you."

This time, she couldn't help but bristle at his arrogance, "I'd make sure we'd never meet again."

"I found you once, I can find you again," he said evenly.

She didn't answer right away and his eyes probed her expression. She seemed unconcerned at his threat, blast her. "Why would you bother?" She took a deep breath, as if readying herself for saying the next words, "A man like you has no trouble getting someone to warm his bed. Clearly, there is nothing special about me."

"Idiot," he murmured softly. He knew she wasn't trying to be coy or eliciting flattery – he'd been obsessed with her and studied her long enough in his first life to know she'd always been remarkably free of usual female wiles. _Surely she knew she was a woman beyond the common calling._

"Look, I have no illusions about my eligibility," _Or lack thereof._ Though after Ron, she hadn't exactly been in the market to find out.

"I want you." His declaration caused her to freeze and she blinked wildly. She would have asked him to repeat just in case she'd heard incorrectly but even with a horrid hangover, she knew she'd heard the words as clear as day.

_Well…that is…er…how was one suppose to react to that? _"You must get all the ladies with that sort of frank speech," she grinned wryly. _Laud, was she being friendly with him? _Her facial expression immediately tightened.

She could sense him smiling and even imagined the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.

"Most," he finally murmured. "The rest takes a bit of work but they tend to be the _most_ enjoyable."

Her heart pumped wildly. There was no mistaking meaning of his words.

"_When_ we_ do_ fuck –,"

Her stomach twisted at his lewd speech. "Stop it. Stop talking as though you know what's going to happen."

"Why? You know you'll give in sooner or later." The room was dark but even in the gloom, he saw that the gaze she turned on him was stony.

No, she wouldn't. She knew she wouldn't. The very idea made her sick to her stomach. He was a Death Eater, bent on destroying her kind and had very nearly achieved it. She'd have to be absolutely depraved to even think of –

"Please leave."

Rabastan carefree expression slipped and hardened as he watched her pick herself up and disappear into the wash room. She meant to freeze him into letting her go.

_Good. She would be easier to break._

He _would_ break her, just as his obsession with her had very nearly broken him.

_Hell, it had killed him the first time around. _

He just had to be patient.

**Xxxxx**

"Huh, now that's interesting," he murmured just as she finished buttoning up the third dress robe she'd layered on.

Her eyes flickered briefly to his impeccably dressed person before she tightened the silk sash around her waist.

"I find myself less than beguiled by your wardrobe, madam,"

"I wasn't out to beguile," she snapped, walking around him and seating herself at the couch. She studied the vase of plastic flowers most fervently, her burning glare practically searing a hole into the glass.

He sat down in the settee across from her and set the tray down on the coffee table. "Dinner is served."

"What? No house elves?" She scornfully bit out more out of hunger than anything else.

He nibbled on a piece of fruit, "We are at an unplottable estate. Even if they are in servitude to us, they are a sentient being and would only heighten the chances of us being discovered. Besides," he smiled congenially, "you never enjoyed the idea of their working for the Wizarding kind."

_If that was the case, then damn her S.P.E.W. efforts to the deepest pits of hell. _She couldn't help but wish there was a house elf there right now.

"Eat."

Her head shot up at his command and she was slightly taken back by the hard glint in his blue eyes.

"No," she snapped back.

He didn't react right away but instead, placed a piece of fruit in his mouth. She calmed only to find her person jerked forward, chin in an iron-grip as his lips crushed down on hers in a bruising kiss.

She pressed her lips shut, hands scratching at his face.

He didn't let go, and instead, his hand inched down to her neck where he painfully squeezed her esophagus.

She gasped in his mouth and almost choked as his tongue pushed in. He seemed to have understood when he pulled away but was yet reluctant to do so as he tugged on her lip painfully with his teeth.

She spat the fruit – some sort of red berry, it looked like – out and wiped at her mouth before snapping up and bringing her hand back.

_No, Hermione, no!_

Shaking and flushed to the roots, her hand halted as she looked into his eyes.

There was no mistaking the intensity swimming in the depths of blue. With every second, the tension between them would tighter and tighter, a tension heavy with her dislike and his unrelenting purpose.

She had no illusions about her ultimate…_punishment._ An odd choice of words but there it was, the most fitting.

He wanted her. He'd take her. He was deranged enough to hurt her.

_He was a fucking Death Eater, of course he would! _

That was his ultimate purpose, no?

She wasn't a connoisseur of Mother Nature's most basic of acts but even she could recognize that Death Eater or not, he was in thrall to his lust.

_A lust dedicated solely to her, a Muggle-born._

She could only feel shock and disbelief.

_But why else launch himself on this lunatic path otherwise?_

Still shaking, Hermione dropped her hand and sat down, averting her gaze to the second plate on the tray. "I'll eat. Just don't do that again."

_Sick bastard. This was all a game to him. He had wanted her to lose control. _

Rabastan's surprise was brief but he quickly smashed it to make room for the satisfaction he felt when she picked up her fork and took her first bite.

It immediately flickered into non-existence when she spat it out into a napkin and pushed it away.

"I can't, I can't eat this. I can't take anything from you. I'd rather _starve_." Her stubbornness returned full-fledged.

He clenched his fist and leaned forward, absolutely giddy when he saw that his little lioness refused to react despite the danger she was _tempting_. "Would you like a repeat of before?"

His innocent tone was meant to jibe and she reacted instinctively. "No!" she snapped, "Just kill me! Isn't that what your lot is supposed to do with _my kind _anyways?"

Rabastan shrugged, "That's no fun,"

"You're vile," she sneered.

He stood up and walked around the table, sharing the small couch with her. She scooted towards the corner before she could stop herself. His leg pressed against hers and she jerked away at the heat that seeped in through the layers of cotton – his trousers – and silk – her dress robes.

_Come on Hermione, buck up!_

"So you do mean to kill me." She announced woodenly as his fingers reached up and deftly unbuttoned his shirt below the chin. They quickly moved to his cuffs where he rolled them up, giving way to tanned, golden skin and sinew.

"Like I said, that's no fun at all."

Hermione licked her dry lips, flinching when she realized the nervous action caught his attention in a manner she never sought. "What are you going to do?"

Rabastan leaned in, blocking her escape with an arm while the other snaked to take a hold of her back. "I think you can guess,"

"I don't want to play your_ fucking_ games!"

He tutted – the damn, irksome man, actually tutted! – and shifted so that his length was pressed on top of hers.

Hermione stilled. Her hands balled into fists and she would've railed at him if she knew she even had a chance of throwing him off. As it was, she knew that struggling would only serve to excite him even more.

_You're a survivor._

He traced one long finger down her neck and then rubbed her collarbone with all four fingers. Despite the three different dress robes she'd donned, she still didn't feel covered enough. The fingers on her back were tracing indistinguishable patterns, making her stomach flip-flop most disturbingly – a feeling she refused to delve too much on as she was more preoccupied by the hands teasing the skin about the neckline of her dress.

He pressed a kiss on her chest, relishing in the tremor she couldn't quite control. He paused to admire the creamy swells, glowing in the evening's setting sun. The magnificent breasts heaved with each breath she took, cushioning the delicate smattering of lace along the edge of her décolletage.

Hermione brought her hands up and tried to cross them where his attentions were centered on but he brought both hands up and wrenched them back with reflexes faster than she'd ever seen.

"You're hurting me!" She squirmed, trying to move away even more.

The demon didn't answer and instead, traced soft kissed from her jaw down her neck in an achingly slow manner. She bit her tongue and tried to turn away but the action only allowed him better access to the sensitive pulse just beneath her ear.

"I'll fight you." She spoke in the coldest of tones, ignoring his teeth nipping gently at the spot.

"I count on it." The words more of a growl than anything else as the pressure intensified.

She stiffened and she tried to push his head away with her chin. _She would not allow him to mark her like some ruddy cattle!_

"Merlin, you're delicious," he murmured, his lips humming with his words on her neck as he pushed away her dress shoulder.

"I hope you get food poisoning." She bit back, horrified to hear her voice had suddenly taken on a husky edge.

He laughed, his hot breaths fanning her overly sensitized skin. He murmured something against her skin but she didn't care to hear as she tugged at her arms and whimpered when he pulled her against him.

Her neck painfully hit the hard edge of the arm which distracted her – yes, distracted her – from the feelings he was eliciting physically. She was healthy and she was young, it had to be a natural response, wasn't it?

She felt so dirty, the scrub her skin until it was bloody and raw – that type of dirty.

She didn't trust this madman. She didn't bring him back by any choice of her own and had thought him harmless, especially with the detail the Ministry had kept on him. Regardless of the sentence he'd snatched her away from, she'd much rather be a prisoner of her own home under the scrutiny of the Ministry's eyes rather than _here_.

Eventually, he must have recognized her detachment because he sat back and released her, studying her with an expression of displeasure on his spoiled, handsome face.

_Bastard, _she practically spat.

"You can't escape me, even in your mind."

She ignored the hard edge to his tone and concentrated on rubbing the bruises now forming around the edges of her wrists. "I'll fight you." She repeated the same words from moments ago. The time, they sounded so much weaker.

His answer was still the same.

"_I count on it._"


	8. Chapter 8

**Gift For: **scifichick774**  
Title: **Eleusinian Mysteries (Return)**  
Author: **Svelte Rose**  
Summary: **He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to ensnare her mind, body, and soul. _She was his_ _for the taking_.**  
Pairing: **Rabastan Lestrange, Hermione Granger**  
Rating: **NC-17**  
Warnings: **Dubious consent, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, violence, and a possible cliff-hanger**  
Spoilers: **Basic HP stuff…**  
****Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: I don't think I followed the prompts very well _at all_, scifichick774, so I offer my deepest apologies. When the challenge first came to me, I thought I could do it especially since the plot bunny reared its cute, furry head so quick. But then it swerved to an off-road like a bad driver and [un]fortunately, this is the end result. With a dynamic such as Rabastan's and Hermione's, my muse was very stubborn on how she wanted to see this work out. Hope you enjoy!

**xxxxx**

She had yet to consider how quickly she'd allowed him control over the altercation between her and Ginny in the courtroom washroom. Ginny, who was notorious for her temper, high-maintenance behavior, and sometimes hypocritical beliefs - much of what she learned from her mother - _acted_ as expected. Hermione had gotten used to the red-head's vitrol; she suspected much of it came from jealousy. Jealousy that it hadn't been her but Hermione who'd run around with Harry searching for Horcruxes. Jealousy because it had been Hermione whom Harry sought respite with after the war ended. Jealousy because despite the fact that no matter how many praised the red-head to be a fairly powerful witch, Hermione was always one step further.

Ginny had tempered down during a few months after the final war. She hadn't realized it before but they were the same months Ron and her had been attached at the hips and Ginny and Harry decided that they were finally allowed to be together. While the latter two had decided to go ahead and declare their vows, Hermione decided a split was best with Ron.

The vitrol returned.

Usually, all it took for Ginny to shut up was for Hermione to roll her eyes and walk away. The red-head knew that for all the sharp remarks she had, the curly-haired witch was not someone to push too far.

Yet, this time, she didn't care. Hermione knew that had they not been forced to hand-over their wands, the youngest Weasley child would have thrown her infamous bat-bogey hex without any conscience. This time, it _had _been her fault for Ginny's state because this time, she had unwillingly, indirectly, consequentally killed the first babe of the Boy Who Lived.

And so she took it. Took the accusations, the lies, all of it because she knew that she _deserved it._

Hermione ducked and resurfaced, pulling back her hair, her eyes closed; she felt the air in the room shift.

If it had been any other life than this, she knew that she would have long cast her inhibitions to the wind and allowed herself to recognize the feelings of flattery. There was no denying she had the brains and spine to do work that the senior Order members could have done, much less those of her own age range. To have done so well on the battle field that even their enemies were loathed to admit it was a feat in it of itself.

Her, a nineteen-year old Hogwarts student.

Her, Harry Potter's walking encyclopedia.

Her, a _muggleborn._

But it was war and always a pessimistic pragmatist, she counted herself extremely lucky.

There was no denying that Rabastan Lestrange was a sinfully handsome man with a powerful physique and arresting presence. Black had never been a favorite color of hers but it matched him perfectly with his thick, black hair and tanned, golden skin. His eyes reminded her of a pair of lapis lazuli earrings she'd had and had she been a lesser woman, she would have quelled under its intense scrutiny.

As it was, he _was_ a Death Eater whose purpose had been to kill every single one of her kind. This was the thought _most prominent_.

She had also gone through worse. She knew she could handle him, she _would need to._

Hermione glared right back at him, crouching in the bathtub as the blue orbs skinned over her bare back.

"You haven't eaten anything in three days."

_Yes, I know. My aching, sore stomach can attest to that. _"I'm not eating your poisoned food." Her glare intensified and she sank even deeper into the water to cover whatever bit of modesty there was left.

"Here. I'll help wash your back."

"No!" She cried, her hands shooting out to grab the loofah. _Success! _She threw the offending object clear across the room, water droplets decorating the pristine washroom floor.

He knelt down next to her, watching with bemusement as she leaned away. Rolling up his shirt cuffs, he then picked up the soap and lathered his hands until all she saw were suds. Dismayed, she scowled and tensed immediately when his two large hands pressed on her back.

Her hands itched to slap at him. If they weren't currently being used as a shield against his lascivious gaze, she knew she very well would have.

"Don't I deserve some privacy?"

Rabastan smirked and the urge to slap him quickly mutated into something more violent.

Slowly and with chagrin, she felt herself turning into jelly at his ministrations.

"That feels good," she relented, resting her head on her knees and closing her eyes.

"I can make you feel even better," he said in a gruff voice laced with an undertone of desire.

She scoffed and then wriggled her toes when his fingers found an especially large knot between her neck and shoulders. Deft fingers ran up and down her skin, from her jaw to her shoulder and then back, slowly working out the tight muscles.

Hermione felt her eyelids slowly dropping as his hands continued to work wonders on her back. They dipped into dangerous territory at times but surprisingly enough, largely stayed within the safe area of her back. Drifting in a state of half-consciousness, she didn't register the sound of fabric dropping to the floor. When the water began to swell up around her, only then did she become alarmed. Before she could react, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her while muscular legs stretched out on both sides of her body, effectively trapping her in a prison of sinew and porcelain.

One arm shot out to throw him off but for all her fight, he only responded with a bark of uninhibited laughter. Ignoring her naked state, she twisted around and shoved at him before grabbing the edge of the tub to pull herself out.

His arm wrapped itself around her torso and jerked her back. This time, she fell on his lap and immediately stiffened, color flooding her cheeks as she felt the hardness prodding into her back.

_Don't struggle. That's what he wants. _"Let me go." She was mortified and squeezed her eyes shut when his hands came around to cover her breasts, rubbing in an achingly slow manner.

His answer: a soft kiss pressed into her shoulder.

_God, he was a practiced seducer._

Her breath quickened as his fingers tugged and rubbed at her hardened nipples while his mouth nipped at her sensitive skin.

"Stop," she weakly murmured as his hands dipped just right above the apex of her thighs. Her hands moved to push his hands away but even her attempts were weak – not because of a lack of strength but _because she wanted him to continue_.

Her cheeks flushed with shame and she would have scowled if not for the pleasant feelings his hands were eliciting from her.

_His hands were gentle and possessive at the same time. For a reason she couldn't quite place a finger on – not that she really wanted to psychoanalyze any of her feelings right now – she quite liked the combination of the two. She felt…_

Rabastan pressed his cheek against hers and in an even softer voice, asked, "Is that what you really want?"

Hermione turned her head, lips dangerously close to his. Somewhere during their brief exchange, her hands had found his legs and had been stroking them for quite some time. Only now did she realize the muscles hardening beneath her palms as the pressure in her back grew.

He must've sensed her hesitation because in one fell swoop, he caught her parted lips in a searing kiss, locking her head from turning away with a hand while his other pressed against her stomach. The water lapped around them as he rubbed his erection against her back and she whimpered. His message came through loud and clear.

_Just give in._

"I know you're trying to teach me a lesson," she panted against his cheek when he broke away and pushed himself against her back again. She felt herself squirming against him, though for all the _wrong reasons_. A hiss escaped her mouth when his fingers teased her clit with a brief brush before they moved back to pay with the small curls above.

He didn't bother to deny it. "And what would that be?"

_That she was weak. A veritable slave to her passions whether it be knowledge or lust._

Hermione took one glance at his smirking countenance before slamming her mouth against his and began to use her tongue in an open-mouthed passionate kiss. Rabastan responded tit for tat not because he wanted to, but because he had no other choice.

It swept her up in a conflagration of dark pleasure, filled with all sorts of opposing feelings both hateful and yet, enchanting. It was a wonder she had even remembered what had been her reasoning for initiating the kiss in the first place.

_But what had been your reasoning?_

With hands entwined in his dark locks, she pressed herself deeper into his lips, tongues battling without a thought to the casualties.

She had jumped into blazing inferno without a thought to her own protection.

Then, in a moment of surprising clarity, she leapt from his arms and out of the tub, ungracefully slipping and sliding across the ceramic tiles. Without a single glance behind, she quickly made her way out of the bathroom, away from his darkened gaze that threatened to swallow her and the feeling that he would never let her go.

_Come after me._

A sob caught in her throat as she ran around the bed and diving into a smaller room where masses of dress robes hung.

_God, _she thought as she shut the door behind her, dropping to the floor in a daze. _What was wrong with her?_

**xxxxx**

"Bloody fuck!" He was furious and absolutely frustrated. Not even a quick pump of his hands would completely relieve him.

_He almost had her!_

Hands slamming into the water, Rabastan scowled at his rippling reflection in the bathtub water. His patience was wearing thin and while her close proximity should have acted as a soothsayer to his nerves, it did nothing but multiply his obsession exponentially.

_She would fall to him and he'd make her regret ever causing this never ending want._


	9. Chapter 9

**Gift For: **scifichick774**  
Title: **Eleusinian Mysteries (Return)**  
Author: **Svelte Rose**  
Summary: **He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to ensnare her mind, body, and soul. _She was his_ _for the taking_.**  
Pairing: **Rabastan Lestrange, Hermione Granger**  
Rating: **NC-17**  
Warnings: **Dubious consent, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, violence, and a possible cliff-hanger**  
Spoilers: **Basic HP stuff…**  
****Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: I don't think I followed the prompts very well _at all_, scifichick774, so I offer my deepest apologies. When the challenge first came to me, I thought I could do it especially since the plot bunny reared its cute, furry head so quick. But then it swerved to an off-road like a bad driver and [un]fortunately, this is the end result. With a dynamic such as Rabastan's and Hermione's, my muse was very stubborn on how she wanted to see this work out. Hope you enjoy!

**xxxxx**

The room was thick with silence as a piercing blue gaze bore deep into a sea of brown molasses. One was filled with amusement and also a little bit of impatience while the other possessed annoyance and distrust in plenty.

Despite the strong and stubborn front she poised before her one-member audience, it was quite obvious she also seemed ready to pass out while he seemed all-too-ready to do something else altogether.

Hermione knew it was silly to wonder why he wanted to poison her; she couldn't even come up with a motive that he couldn't accomplish with some spell or another. However, what she did know was that there were certain things only potions could accomplish that spells couldn't.

Such as aphrodisiacs.

Even thinking about it, made the blood run to her head. It wasn't from embarrassment, perhaps there was a little bit of mortification, but most of all, it made her angry to fathom that someone like Rabastan Lestrange would bother himself with aphrodisiac especially since _she was his capture_.

She didn't trust divination but she certainly put a lot of stock into her own intuition.

_It screamed at her practically every time she looked at any sort of refreshment he provided._

"You need to eat at some point."

"No." She murmured, not having energy for anything more forceful. Having fasted for more days than was healthy, she had lost an inordinate amount of weight, not to mention the constant wrenching state her stomach was in.

_If he wasn't going to kill her, she was going to do it herself. She'd rather that happen than whatever he had planned._

Her stomach wrenched again and a wave of dizziness hit her. _But Hermione, old gal, he hasn't tried anything, has he?_

She shook her head to the unspoken question, eyes fluttering weakly.

A growl erupted from his mouth as he stalked towards her, halting when she flinched and weakly took a couple steps back. "I'm not going to harm you!"

"You could've fooled me," she replied blithely before leaning against the large windows, her heart beating erratically. Her eyes averted, she could only hear the shuffling of cloth before a shadow fell upon her.

She looked up, finding the same pair of intense blue eyes that'd she'd become fairly accustomed to over the last few days.

"An exchange then,"

"Wh-what?" She asked, frowning.

Rabastan sighed, waving a key, "I know you're deathly bored. But if you at least eat, I'll allow you free entry into my personal library."

Her eyes widened. _He was right. She had been deathly bored but…why would he cared if she ate or not? He had to have something nefarious planned for her._

Hermione shook her head. _Again with the paranoia._

"It's hard to ravish you when you look like you could snap in two if the wind blew by."

_She hadn't meant to speak her thoughts out loud. _

His eyes narrowed as he pushed the key into her palm, a puckered scar just slightly noticeable beneath the metal piece. So enamored by the glinting metal, she hadn't noticed the glimmer that flashed in his eyes. "There are some tomes in there that I know you'd be interested in being that they're the only copies in existence."

His analogy in the courtroom seemed so very fitting in a moment like this:

_She could see why Persephone had been so easily persuaded to eat the pomegranate seeds her kidnapper gave her._

But hers was not such a dire situation.

"That's silly. A key to your library? Honestly. You could be more creative than that." She barked out one harsh laugh and turned around, setting the key on a nearby table.

"Is that so?" She felt him grin as he pressed his warm frame against her back. "Then how about this? I won't lay a finger on your friends. You know I have the ability to destroy them if I wanted to but if you acquiesce..."

"You wouldn't be able to touch them." She mocked, making mention of the several Aurors they both knew would be stationed around Harry, Ginny, and Ron.

"They're all kids," he laughed, "You and I both know that while that may have been a viable threat before the war, after the war where most of the Seasoned Aurors perished...well..." He let the suggestion sink.

Hermione stiffened her back and let out a mirthless chuckle, "You can't be serious to want to go through all that trouble just to get me to _eat_, can you?"

His eyes bore into hers, "I would do just about anything to get you to do what I _want you to do_."

She shook her head, "This is ridiculous. I don't think you'd do it. It's not your style. You prefer hiding in the shadows, you prefer to observe, you prefer to strike wherever it'll do the most damage with the least amount of effort on your part."

This time, he remained silent and she waited. She knew he had a response; he was just simply testing her.

Finally, he nodded, "All very true."

_She didn't know why he sounded so triumphant though._

"How is Miss Lovegood and her father these days?"

Her mouth tightened, her muscles tensed, her eyes narrowed into slits. _He was smiling. He was actually smiling! _She tore away and pressed a hand to her beating heart. _She was angry, she was so very angry._ "What are you going to do to her?" She knew the threat that hung in the air, yet she wanted to hear it from his lips.

_Because she knew that_ _Luna, for all she'd done, for all she suffered, had not warranted enough importance by the Ministry to protect the same way they guarded Harry and the Weasleys._

_She was an easy target and he wouldn't hesitate to do what he wanted. It would be quick, requiring practically no effort on his part. _

"Do you really want to chance it?" The statement sounded airy, non-threatening even. _But he could do it. She knew it. _

_He knew that she knew it. _

"I don't want to eat!" She snapped much like a petulant child.

"I won't have you wasting away." His tone was unbearably soft that she felt her heart give a little kick.

"This is stupid," she grumbled as she grabbed at her waist in an attempt at self-comfort. "I can't believe you're threatening me just to eat!"

"I told you, didn't I? There isn't much I wouldn't do to get what I wanted from you."

Ice ran through her veins at his last words and she clenched her fists.

Rabastan smiled when he watched her shoulders drop.

"On one condition," she finally relented, turning around and locking gazes. "You can't..." She blushed. "You can't touch me."

He arched an eyebrow, watching the light blush feather her cheeks. His voice teasing, he shrugged, "Can't touch you _how_?"

Hermione glared at him before picking up the key and throwing it at him, watching in satisfaction when it bounced off his chest. It wasn't as though she could not agree at this point, he'd all but dangled the threat of Luna's death and torture if she didn't follow his orders.

A laugh, so familiar and one she had come to detest echoed in the otherwise silent room, "Alright, alright. I'll concede." _For now._

She nodded, albeit stiffly.

"I have conditions of my own though," there was an edge to his tone she didn't quite like.

Immediately on her guard, she narrowed her eyes at him, "What is it?" She had almost been afraid to ask.

"Dress up for dinner. _One_ dress only," he answered.

"That's it?" Her eyes were wide with incredulity.

"Do you need help?"

"No!" Hermione shook her head and glared at his smirking countenance, "I'll come, dressed and ready for dinner."

"Good, be ready in half an hour." With that, he turned on his heels and in two large strides, crossed the room and exited.

Exactly half an hour later, she appeared in a rather cozy room, tugging uncomfortably at the swooping neckline. It was a nice set of dress robes with a matching pair of kid slippers but even then…

_She felt naked under those eyes._

She hurried to her seat, much to his bemusement and threw herself down, blinking widely at the fruit and simple vegetable broth that had been laid out.

Rabastan poured her a glass of water. "This will be better on your stomach because anything else would be too much after your days of fasting."

He obviously put more thought into this than she expected.

_She wondered why her heart gave that strange little kick again_.

"Please, dig in," he motioned for her to began.

With the fare before her, it was hard to say no.

**Xxxxx**

Two hours later, Rabastan watched her exit the room under a hooded gaze.

_He had used an inordinate amount of self-control to keep himself from ripping that dress straight from her body._

The image only sent blood rushing south.

His hand clenched tightly around the wine glass.

_He had waited long enough. It was time._

**Xxxxx**

She had been on the couch in front of the fireplace reading when the door slammed open. Jumping up immediately, Hermione shot a worried glance at the obviously distressed silhouette at the door.

"What is it? Did something happen?" These had been her immediate words.

Rabastan stepped into the light, lifting his head.

Recognizing the feral look in his eyes, she stepped back, the book dropping to the carpeted floor forgotten. Wildly looking around the room, she quickly dashed to hide behind the desk.

"You promised!"

"And you believed me?"

Her face scrunched up as she felt around the desk for the first thing she could pick up – a paperweight? – and hurled it with all her might at him.

He simply stepped aside, watching with hungry eyes as the heavy metal bounced across the floor before coming to a stop. Her eyes dropped to the artifact in his hands – what was he doing with a pocket watch?

"I'm suppose to give you a few more moments but –," he stepped up to the desk and leaned across it, "I simply could _not _wait any longer."

"No!" She yelled, dodging his grasp and had made it fairly far across the room before something heavy tackled her and knocked the air straight from her lungs.

Rabastan's face looked above hers as he pinned her legs with his body weight, her arms pinioned high above her head. He admired her for not crying and relegating him to the annoying caterwauling women were far too capable of doing. Regardless, _his little hellcat _could not help but fight.

"No, no, no! You promised!" She grinded out, tugging at her arms and squirming under him.

He bit back a curse and pressed down, making sure she understood what he _clearly_ wanted to accomplish tonight.

It had the desired effect if her saucer-wide eyes were anything to go by.

Hermione Granger.

The woman he'd obsessed over.

The woman he'd dueled Dolohov for and died.

The woman who had rescued him from eternal damnation.

The woman he yearned for with every breath.

_She deserved to be punished._

_He'd enjoy punishing her._

Hermione bit her lip, trying very hard to ignore the length pressing upon her leg.

She shouldn't have expected him to keep to his promise.

_Though, it was surprising enough he'd waited this long. _

She ignored the warm feeling pooling in her stomach.

"The aphrodisiac should have spread throughout your system right now." His husky voice sent shivers of the most unbecoming sort down her back.

She swallowed. Hard.

_So that was why he'd been so adamant in her eating. _

Hermione relaxed, refusing to shirk away any further. There had never been any escape and she was a fool to think that something as simple as indulging in his wishes would keep him from his obvious intent.

He let her go and kneeled between her legs. She looked away, the rustle of clothing indicating to her he was disrobing. Her eyes flickered back briefly, catching sight of the smooth skin of arms and shoulders that gleamed golden as he threw the garment across the room.

She curled her fingers into her palm to keep from attacking him.

"I was a saint to have waited this long," he murmured, slamming his hands down on the ground beside her head.

Hermione blinked but returned her gaze at his. A chaste kiss was pressed upon her lips before he got up and shucked the rest of his clothes.

She averted her gaze, not wanting to know what the rest of him looked like.

"You seem reluctant," his smooth voice pulled her attention back.

"I am reluctant!" She snapped cheeks spots of red as her peripheral gaze caught sight of his sex, hard and avid and seeking.

His nature was clear. It was to conquer and subdue.

"You'll be forcing me. A veritable thief in the night," she continued, pushing herself up on her elbows.

His blue eyes, fathomless pools of blue glittered dangerously, "A thief?"

_She wanted to call herself a liar. Even now, despite hating him, her body had already begun attuning itself to his very presence._

_She didn't think she could even blame the aphrodisiac for her reaction._

Her fingers curled into a loose fist and she felt the protruding scar on her left palm.

His hand ran down her slender neck and paused at the swells of her breasts. A thumb rubbed the neckline briefly before he took a handful of the fabric and ripped it in one fell swoop.

She whimpered, turning her head away as he divested her of everything but her knickers. The bra had been torn with the dress and now lay in shreds around her chest.

"Put your arms around me."

Not surprising, they stayed put at her sides.

He shrugged and bent down, cupping a breast with a hand. Her skin was cool and smooth beneath his fingers and he tested the glorious roundness of her breast. Despite her foolish insistence at not eating a single morsel for the last several days, it seemed to not have affected her more generous curves.

Bending his head, he took a nipple into his mouth. Immediately, it pebbled hard under his lips. Triumphantly, he chanced a look at her and almost laughed at her stony gaze focused on the threads of the carpet. Despite her resistance, he refused to believe she was lost to him.

He gorged himself on her sweetness. Laving, licking, sucking and running his tongue across the breast to give the other equal attention.

_He wanted to cherish this moment._

And so, he lingered over her breasts, tasting, testing, and squeezing. With her sex so close to his, he was rather amazed that he hadn't immediately thrust inside her.

Then his hand made the slow, long journey down to the depressed curve of her stomach, flitting across her taut muscles before cupping her mound. The thin layer of fabric was quickly torn and tossed aside. As his fingers entwined in the soft curls, he watched with avid eyes as she pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a moan of pleasure.

Her body arched to his touch and she closed her eyes, seemingly ashamed of her actions.

Rabastan growled, unable to wait much longer. He dipped his fingers lower and found the wetness and slickness that awaited him. Inserting a finger, he moaned, having imagined quite vividly it another piece of himself instead.

She gasped, eyes finally opening. Now, she fought to stay unresponsive under Rabastan's touch but it had been lost long before it even began. Gently, his other hand shaped her breasts, her stomach, her hips and legs before running back up and starting over while his fingers pumped slowly in and out.

She licked her lips, cheeks coloring for another reason entirely as she met his darkened, lust-filled gaze.

_You kidnapped me._

_You tricked me._

_You're forcing me._

_You want to destroy me._

Flashes of her fight with Ronald, Harry's cold shoulder, Ginny's biting words, the snubs she still received as a muggleborn witch; something inside her snapped. It seemed as though all the resentment, hate, and anger that had been building up over the past several years had finally reached it's limit. And finally...

_I won't let you._

Her arms had somehow found his head and she pulled him to her face.

"If we're going to do this, we're going to do this right," she murmured with an air of finality before pressing a kiss down on his lips. The voices inside her head screamed and she felt a drop of liquid fall down her cheek.

In that kiss she released every bit of frustration, hate, and anger she had, pushing against his pumping fingers.

_She was a Gryffindor. It was about time she acted like one._


	10. Chapter 10

**Gift For: **scifichick774**  
Title: **Eleusinian Mysteries (Return)**  
Author: **Svelte Rose**  
Summary: **He's received a second chance and he refuses to waste it. His obsession wrought a dangerous and deadly trap and he expects to ensnare her mind, body, and soul. _She was his_ _for the taking_.**  
Pairing: **Rabastan Lestrange, Hermione Granger**  
Rating: **NC-17**  
Warnings: **Dubious consent, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, violence, and a possible cliff-hanger**  
Spoilers: **Basic HP stuff…**  
****Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: I don't think I followed the prompts very well _at all_, scifichick774, so I offer my deepest apologies. When the challenge first came to me, I thought I could do it especially since the plot bunny reared its cute, furry head so quick. But then it swerved to an off-road like a bad driver and [un]fortunately, this is the end result. With a dynamic such as Rabastan's and Hermione's, my muse was very stubborn on how she wanted to see this work out. Hope you enjoy!

**xxxxx**

Surprise would not be the word to describe it. Rabastan had been blown away for the smallest fraction before he pushed her back on the floor, returning the kiss with the same amount of fervor.

His restraint was disappearing rapidly. He had to take her now or consider himself a immediate candidate for bedlam. Withdrawing his hand, he pulled away, appreciating the darkened lips and the hooded eyes she watched him with.

He wasn't so stupid as to believe she had stopped fighting him.

_She was just fighting on her own terms now._

_He much preferred this, anyway._

With a groan that seemed to rise from the deepest part of his body, he slid into her, feeling her muscles resist, then relax to accept his entry. She was slick, tight, and all too ready for him. The pulsing muscles that surrounded him only served to draw him deeper.

_He had her. He finally had her._

This was nothing like anything he'd ever encountered.

_He was falling. Sinking far too fast to even contemplate saving himself._

He clutched her closer, as if daring anything, even fate itself to take her from him.

Against his chest, he could feel her hard nipples rubbing his coarse chest hair and with regret, he released her only to bring her knee up, easing his penetration.

Hermione squirmed. She couldn't think, couldn't do anything but want to pull him closer.

_Move, goddammit!_

He pulled out achingly slow, as if to savor the moment before roughly thrusting back into her.

She skid across the carpet and still rose to meet him thrust for thrust.

"Look at me," he commanded in a soft gentle tone, not meant to offend.

Hermione lifted her head and locked gazes.

_Why not? What price had her defiance and hatred earned?_

Molten brown chocolate clashed with stormy blue as the age-old rhythm increased. She was all too aware of his scent, the woody aftershave he used and the evocative sounds of his body moving in hers. She breathed, not once daring to break gazes.

_She would not lose._

A moan, a mew of pleasure – whatever one called it – escaped her. His grunts were more pronounced as he drove harder and harder into her slender body, reaching down and pushing the other knee up.

"Oh god," he groaned, closing his eyes in pure pleasure as he drove deeper into her sweet depths.

Her breasts bounced and he let go of her knees to squeeze appreciatively, rubbing and flicking.

She never once broke her gaze on him. He was amazed. First light brown, then dark like molasses, and now, as they neared the edge, like two glittering pieces of onyx.

The pace was relentless now and she hardly noticed, her own response rising as her inner walls started to clench, compelling to cling to him as he drove into her harder and harder.

She pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss before breaking in his arms on a peak higher than anything she'd ever experienced before.

Rabastan growled, low and deep against her neck as her walls convulsed around his thick, swollen member and he exploded into her, pressing her body into the rough carpet. He vaguely felt the stinging of fingernails piercing his back.

His body leapt to greedily devour every second of rapture, every ravishing sensation.

**xxxxx**

His rough breathing warmed her ear and he had yet to pull out. Finally, some shred of control had returned.

With a shaky laugh, she drew a tired arm to her sweat-soaked face and murmured, "Something has been bothering me."

He nodded, too tired to do much of anything else.

"Why trick me into taking poison when you could have very well forced me to do so?" She asked even though her mind had already made up it's answers. _Why didn't he just use his wand to force it into her? Why not Imperio her to do so? Why the poison at all?_

He did not answer right away and instead, chose to press his face into her _sweet, fragrant_ hair.

"I need to know. Was there any aphrodisiac in the food?" Her voice barely a whisper as her body relaxed underneath his. _Because that was the only family of 'poisons' she knew would need to be taken willingly in order to be effective._

He shook his head slowly, still nestled in the curve of her neck. He felt her take a shuddering breath and for one reason or another, he smiled. _No. There hadn't been any in the food. _

_But there had been copious amounts in her bathwater, her toothpaste, and even her clothing. _

_It was a type of potion that subdued her inherently strong magical abilities;_

_A type of potion that had to be taken by the willing in order to be effective; _

_A type of potion that he used to make sure her iron will would bend to his. _

_So he tricked her._

_The dinner was just to remove the last of her defenses. She might have been strong enough to fight the blood bond she'd form with him when she did the spell to bring him back but given a little push..._

_She'd be unable to use her wandless magic. She'd lose control of her baser instincts. She'd...fall._

He heard her sniff and tried to move away but his hold didn't loosen any. His tongue darted out and flicked at the pulsing spot behind her ear as his hands moved absentmindedly through her thick curls.

_And she _had _been willing. If she hadn't been willing, then the blood bond would have sent him straight back to hell for violating her in such a manner. _

_Magic, _he mused, _was a romantic. _

He lifted his head and pressed a kiss on her cheek. It tasted salty and slightly bitter.

**xxxxx**

She watched her husband exit the door with her brother and four aurors flanking their sides. As soon as they disapparated, she shut the door with a quick snap and hurried out the back door. Once she was beyond the boundaries of the protective spells around her home, she too, disapparated.

At the center of a crossroad in the middle of a cemetary, she quickly buried a box containing her own picture, a bone, and graveyard dirt from where she buried her unborn son.

_Only a few weeks more and she would have held him in her arms. _

As she smoothed the dirt over, a lone tear dropped down her cheek, her face otherwise expressionless. She quickly wiped it away and lifted her chin in confidence just as a strong gust of wind swirled around her.

"Hello, Ginny Potter." The voice was smug, even_ knowing_. "How may I be of some service?"

She met the inky black gaze and her lips twitched upwards of their own accord. "'I've a deal for you."

**Xxxxx**

She smoothed back her blonde hair, peppered with grey before glancing at the photos that decorated her vanity.

A handsome boy with a dimpled grin and bright blue eyes looked back at her as he slung an arm around the other figure, an older wizard who shared the same features. The other wizard took him by the yellow and black scarf, wrapping it around his face before tousling his shaggy blond mane and laughing. She chuckled as the two of them peeked up at her and waved from the photo. A single sob tore from her throat mixing with the laugh.

Gathering her resolve, she wiped away the tears and tied the brief note to the owl that had been patiently nibbling on a dish of fruit she'd laid out for him. She opened the window and watched as the owl flew off into the sky. The note fluttered against his foot; there was a single name scribbled across the pristine paper.

_Hermione Granger._

Helene Diggory quietly closed the shutters and sat back down, content to keep staring at the photo of her dying husband...

_A dimpled grin. Bright blue eyes._

...and soon-to-return son.

**Xxxxx**

She never thought of herself as an extremely special person. When her grade-school teachers had exalted the pace of her progress in comparison to the other kids in school, she simply thought she was experiencing something a little different. There were a million excuses she could have thought of, that she had simply been more motivated, that kids were generally lazier than they'd ever been in previous generations, that she'd been extremely lucky in her aptitude tests.

It was not because she was 'special' or anything of that sort. She didn't feel much like a deviation from the norm. She didn't even feel like such when she received her Hogwarts letter.

"A witch?" She had said softly to her mother while her family arranged for her transfer. She was a witch. Yes, it something straight from the story books and she had been exicited for a brief moment.

Then, she realized, there were hundreds out there just like her.

At Hogwarts, she'd been even more motivated to learn of a part of her that she never expected to exist. That was what caused her insatiable lust for books, her insatiable lust for knowledge of all things magic.

It was just luck that she happened to end up being best friends with Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and Ronald Weasley, his family lineage famous enough.

It was most definitely luck they'd gotten through their schooling relatively unscathed. After all, they were only three teenagers, dealing with puberty.

She had always taken their victories as such. After all, the good guys were suppose to win, it was the way of things and thus, the universe made sure it was so.

In retrospect, this type of thinking, this type of ignorance had led to her nonchalant attitude towards the 'price' on her head, her blasé attitude towards the strange, intensity she'd feel whenever she saw Draco with his father, her shoulder shrugging habit whenever Order members mentioned she shouldn't be going head on against seasoned Death Eaters even though she was one of the best duellers.

Granted, she hadn't really learned what the exact amount was until Ginny revealed it in passing one day but even then, it hadn't fazed her. She was a necessary member of the Order and if not for her, Harry Potter might have met his maker long ago. It only followed logically that they would rate her capture high on the list of priorities. Ron had a high price on his head, as did Ginny, even Minerva McGonagall had a bounty posted for her.

Still, she considered herself lucky.

Still, she didn't think it all surprising.

She knew all this and she _still_ thought the same way.

_Then why did the Wizengamot hearing affect her so?_

Hearing another person admit all that, without any hesitance, as though it were as simple as breathing, had been a great shock to her. She hadn't known how to handle it. She knew the price for her capture had been great and she had no fantasy that they would have violated her in every way possible. They were murdurers. It wasn't much to be a rapist on top of that.

_Yet..._

She had been attracted to his words. She had felt the veil come away from her eyes. She had irrevocably, undisputably been enamored by someone whom, for the first time in her life, painted a regard of her that did not try to _explain_ why the way she was but that she simply_ was._

She definitely did not expect to be captured. She wasn't such a masochist.

But she _was _a sadist. She fought him. She would even go so far to say she had enjoyed fighting him. She wanted to see how far she could push his buttons. She had already known all along, what he'd taken her for and she had known all along, what the end result would be. Yet the scientist in her, the observer in her, wanted to test how long it would take for him to break.

Then he did.

She _had _been frightened. She had been confused. She had even scolded herself for having such strange and uncontrollable emotions because in the end...

She hadbeen _willing_.

**xxxxx**

The second time had been only moments later after he'd carried her across the house and dumped her on his bed.

There had been no preliminaries.

He pushed into her hard and gave another groan as he gripped her hip.

She tugged at his hands and covered her breasts with fingers entwined. She squeezed and rubbed, as his breath hitched and he drew back before plunging in once more.

His heart pounded as if it wanted to break out of his chest.

_Another thrust._

His head was filled with nothing but the hot scent of her.

Another moan elicited from her mouth as she left his hands on her breast to push at the solid mattress beneath her.

_Closer, yes, that's right poppet. _

The blinding pleasure that had driven him ever since he'd first caught sight of her in the Daily Prophet still pumped steadily through his veins and he feared he would never rid himself of this cursed…_obsession of her_.

"Hurry," she whispered against his lips and he very nearly exploded right there.

_She wanted him. He had made her want him. _

He thrust into her hard and she gasped as he stilled, his grip tightening before he sped up again, driving into her as his muscles clenched in anticipation.

_He wouldn't suffer this affliction alone. He'd been obsessed with her long enough._

At last, when he didn't think he could hold any longer, she began to tremble in his arms. One shaky hand reached down to touch the sensitive nub between them.

She did not cry or scream. Instead, she gripped him as though he were her very own life-preserver and rode her orgasm out while her walls squeezing painfully at his swollen member still deep inside her.

_He couldn't control himself._

He felt so much pain, deep in his sinews and down to his very bones; every muscle tensed and in a moment of exploding lights, he spilled himself inside her.

Her exhausted sighs rattled hot against the side of his face. Hands entangled in his hair, she moved them, massaging his scalp absentmindedly.

Rabastan closed his eyes and trapped her beneath him. His weight must have been crushing her but she made no protest and he could not – _would not _– complain.

Only one thought remained constant in his mind.

_She was his. She'd never escape now._

_Never._

**xxxxx**

**End Notes: **I would like to give my thanks to sirsevschick who beta'd this for me.

**Xxxxx**

**You are writing a gift for:** scifichick774  
_  
__**Their gift request is as follows**__… _

**3-5 Prompts on what you'd like to receive: **1 - Bringing a dead character back to life; 2 - A potion/spell gone awry. I know it's cliché, I don't care. As long as it causes mutual attraction instead of it being one-sided, I don't care; 3 - Friendship that leads into something more.

**Deathly Hallows/Epilogue**: not Epilogue compliant; I don't care if it's DH compliant either. Or HBP. All books before that, I'd like to see some compliance, unless it's significantly AU.

**Preferred Rating**: I'm fine with either Mature (limited smut/less detailed) or NC17 (detailed/graphic)

**Pairings**: Hermione/Regulus, Hermione/Rabastan, Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco, Hermione/Cedric

**Deal Breakers (what don't you want?):** No super OOC-ness (a little is okay if you need it for the story, but make it believable), no more than a brief mention of Ginny, no adultery, no child abuse in any form (this is a huge squick of mine), and no non-con (dub-con is okay if you're using the potion thing).


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